For Whom the Bell Tolls
by neela
Summary: DISCONTINUED. All fates are interconnected, what affects one also affects others. When Tessa is threatened on her life before a trial and has to go into protection, it will change more than one life. StingersMC xover.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: **All fates are interconnected, what affects one also affects others. When Tessa is threatened on her life before a trial and has to go into protection, it will change more than one life.

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **Don't own the books about Tessa Vance, which includes the characters. They all belong to Jennifer Rowe. Also, I do not own Stingers and its characters either – they belong to Channel 9 Network and Beyond Simpson Le Mesuire.

* * *

**For Whom the Bell Tolls**

_- The fates of all human beings are interconnected - whatever affects one of us affects us all._

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE  
**

The distant green patches of forests and yellow fields lay outside the windows as constant reminders of how far they actually were above ground. The houses resembled tiny Lego cubes, the moving cars on the highway small tedious ants. The flight attendant edged down the aisle, walking easily on her high heels as if the slight turbulence was nothing to worry about at all.

Tessa's hands clenched around the elbow-rests as the plane lurched sideways in a wide circle to head south. Her heart was in her throat, blood rushing through her head and she scrunched her eyes close. However, being surrounded by darkness only made it worse, so she opened them again. A small chuckle came from beside her. She turned her head and shot daggers on the man in the adjoining seat.

"You need to relax, Tess," Steve said, leaning closer. His calm smile shone down at her.

Usually, his presence calmed her senses and offered strength to overcome her fears, but there was nothing he could do to quell the nervous clenching of her stomach as the plane tilted even sharper. She gritted her teeth,

"Easy for you to say," she replied, forgetting herself as she squeezed her eyes shut. The sickness in her belly was building, strengthened by the situation she was in. Tessa gulped down the bile, stiffening in the seat.

Suddenly, the seat belt felt very tight, and she reached down to loosen it. Nearly simultaneously, a hand came to cover hers above the buckle, and she looked up in Steve's warm dark eyes. He smiled gently, squeezing her hand comfortingly. The plane tilted the other way and settled itself horizontally. She let out a breath, only now managing to put on a shaky smile.

"This is so ridiculous," Tessa grumbled, taking the bottle of water from her bag and gulping the liquid down hungrily. The sickness wouldn't budge, but she pushed it away from her mind, concentrating on calming down. The loosening of the belt made her breathe more easily.

"You're not the only one with air plane phobia, you know. Many people have it. It's normal."

"It's not –" she started, but Steve held up a hand to stop her from voicing her arguments further.

"It's completely normal, along with claustrophobia. Don't beat yourself up about it." He gave her a look which made her realise she was being silly, as usual, and that he was right, of course.

The short surge of irritation diminished in a trained blink of an eye, perfected through years of knowing the man and his wisdom. Even with a gradual improvement since her introduction to Central Homicide, she still had a lot to learn about the way of things, and Steve, being the more experienced, would always be one step ahead on that course. It had annoyed her in the beginning, but now she took it for what it was and saw the benefit for herself in it. She needed him to keep her on the ground, or else she would run off into the clouds.

How ironic it was that she hated the feeling of flying.

"I know," Tessa abandoned her thoughts and admitted to his statement with a sigh. She leaned back in her seat while holding on to his hand. "I'm just worried, you know? After all, this is the first time I'm in this particular situation."

Steve smiled sideways at her, a twinkle appearing in his eyes at the mention. The hand in which he held hers moved to rest on top of her stomach, its presence warm and protective. Warmth spread from her toes and throughout her body. She loved it when he did that.

"Trust me when I say the same," he replied, looking uneasy but happy for a stray second. She couldn't help but grin.

"What, no kid running around back home who I don't know about?"

He chuckled. "Except for my niece and nephews, there's no one, as you know very well. The only bastard I have is right here in your belly." He patted the slight bulge underneath her sweater affectionately, grinning at her.

"It won't be your bastard when it's ready to pop out," Tessa reminded him, leaning over the elbow-rest against his strong shoulder. A happy sigh came past her lips, her eyes drifting down to their joined hands where a circle of gold gleamed up at them.

"You're right, it won't." He grinned and kissed her forehead, his free arm wounding its way around her shoulders and hugging her to him tenderly.

"You told your folks yet?" she murmured, drowning in the warmth radiating from his body. Her stomach was settling.

"Just before we left for the airport," Steve answered. "To say mum was overjoyed is probably the understatement of the year. Wanted to know if we'd set a date yet, and when I told her no, she told us she would take care of it all." They chuckled in unison, both visioning Mary Hayden bustling around the farming society, working out the church, the reception and all the things that came with a wedding.

"She'll have competition from mum and Guy, though," Tessa said smugly, eyes twinkling.

"Oh yeah?" Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah," she nodded. "They were having a big discussion off-the-phone whether the reception would have a violin quartet or pop-DJ playing the wedding waltz."

His chest rumbled in laughter and Steve drew her closer. Tessa snuggled into the crook of his arm, completely sated. His hand was warm on her stomach. Silence fell over them for a little while, giving them a few moments to stay by the happy thoughts of their future.

"Think the guys in Melbourne have done their part?" she asked when the silence had stretched far enough and the reason for their trip came to mind. Steve shrugged.

"Judging by the update Malcolm gave us, I think the prosecution have a good starting point and a lot of information to undermine Gisbourne's defence. Those undercover units tend to dug forth dirty secrets us ordinary detectives can't find."

"They're good, no doubt about that." Tessa sighed, before her voiced toned down. "It would be nice to see the scum bag go down," she muttered darkly.

"Tess—" Steve started, but Tessa cut him off, a swell of irritation sweeping over her yet again.

"I know, I'm supposed to be impartial, but when the guy holds you at a knife point and threatens to kill you, you don't exactly get very high feelings for him." Steve's hand tightened at the memory, his eyes clouding and he looked grim with anger.

"I'd like that man to get down to for what he did to you—and those people lying six feet under by now—but…" He drifted off, leaving the rest of the sentence unuttered but still understood. Tessa cupped his cheek kindly, her thumb streaking over his soft cheek and brushing lightly over his lips. She understood his feelings all too well.

"It's not by the book to be partial, and you follow the rules." It was not meant as criticism, only the statement of a hard fact. They both knew that. He brushed his lips over her forehead, sighing barely.

"And you're the opposite," Steve continued the line of thought. "So you can be impartial enough for both of us." Tessa raised an eyebrow at the humour in his eyes, but decided not to comment and just sat close to him, listening to the slow rhythm of his heart.

A sudden thought came to her mind, blocking out all bad memories that belonged to the past which she was going to Melbourne to bring back to life.

"Think we'll get a bubble bath in our hotel room?"

"Bubble bath, hotel room?" Steve quirked an eyebrow, giving her a lopsided grin. "Do you think the force's gotten rich in the few hours it's taking us down to Melbourne? If we're lucky, we'll get a clean motel room and our own bathroom." She grimaced at the thought.

"If that's the case, you're booking us into a hotel—with a bubble bath. End of discussion. My health is not compatible with dungy, moulding motels at the moment." He chuckled, drawing her further into his warmth.

"I'll make sure we'll get a nice and comfy room. No lumpy bed for the mother of my son." Tessa turned her head, looking at him quizzically but with a mystical smile on her lips.

"How can you be so sure it's a boy?" The well-used phrase of the last week or so rolled easily off her tongue.

"How can you be so sure it's a girl?" he retorted teasingly.

"Why are we having this discussion again?" she continued in the same sing-song tone, eyes twinkling. "Be it boy or girl, we'll still love it, right?" He nodded dramatically, but with a mock-denying expression on his face. "Seriously, Steve," she said exasperatedly. He grinned, kissing her fully on the lips. No matter how irritated she could be with him, his kisses always made her tingle throughout the body.

"You're cute when you glare like that." Tessa rolled her eyes, warmth replaced by annoyance now. She withdrew from his embrace and rearranged herself properly in the seat. Steve gave her a rueful grin, squeezing her hand softly. "I'm just kidding. Of course we'll love him."

"Oh, don't you start again!" She huffed, turning away in irritation.

* * *

Peter Church, dressed in worn jeans and a creased shirt over a white tee, put on his sunglasses as he stepped out on the veranda. A lush, blooming garden surrounded the Victorian balcony, screening it from view of prying eyes and unfortunately the Com-V parked down the street. Refusing the urge to check if the wire was still in place, he popped the beer can open and drank.

"Great garden you have here," he said conversationally to the person sitting in a chair beside him. He turned and leaned against the railing, looking comfortable and at ease. However, he was consciously aware he sounded like a bloody idiot and wondered how the other would take it.

His eyes fell on the tall, dark-haired man seated in a Venetian straw chair which looked oddly out of place in these ominous surroundings. Though, it was the somewhat crook-nosed, slightly twitching his lips, powerful figure that influenced the local, not to mention national, environment.

"For my eyes," he explained slowly, holding a glass of martini in his hand. "Not as sore as the grime-looking houses across the street." Pete grinned by habit, even though it was not the least bit amusing. He gulped his beer, silence falling over them.

John Gisbourne, mafia brother of Gary Gisbourne who was now sitting in a cell block awaiting his trial to start, had been Pete's target since he got into this operation nearly a month ago. Drugs, brothels, assassins – the elder Gisbourne brother had a finger in all of it. But despite the police's year-long investigations, nothing could be linked to him. He was a sly eel, slipping away with only a lift of his finger. He had connections everywhere, even in the police department, and they too were concealed from illegal business just like him. And he had a heck of a lawyer.

Pete wanted nothing more than to see the man fall like his brother would.

Although it had not been absolutely clear throughout this operation that they would in the end also provide information to the case of Gary Gisbourne, it was no less desired. Everyone within the force knew of the two Gisbourne brothers being as bad as their father, though they branched off differently. The big brother went into the family business, and the little brother took his own course, leaving a trail of assaults, rapes and eventually murders behind him. In the last case involving the little Gisbourne, he had even tried to get rid of one of the detectives. A female, apparently, from what Pete had heard.

No matter how strong the case stood on the forensic evidences, Detective Tessa Vance was the prosecution's star witness, the one to sign Gisbourne's lifetime sentence. It was something that made Pete a little apprehensive today while he tried to needle out enough information to bust Gisbourne for drug deals.

Right at this moment, while he stood talking unnecessarily about the garden, this woman and her partner were flying down from Sydney. For all he knew, the man beside him could have issued an order out of his earshot for someone to "take care" of her. Pete wouldn't put it past John Gisbourne to get rid of a witness to save his brother from jail. It had happened before, both ways round. Amazing what love for one's brother can make you do.

_It's not just love between two brothers; it's craziness. It's a matter of survival, loyalty, trust. Love's got nothing to do with it.  
Not quite. It's more like playing with the police. They know the holes and how to use them explicitly. It's a game to them, and they've been winning forever._

Pete scratched his neck, the beer balancing on the white-marbled balcony railing beside him. It annoyed him the suits had decided it was not necessary with police escort for the Sydney detectives. Of course it was! She was a threat to Gary Gisbourne, and Big Brother do not like his family threatened. But there was nothing – no phone call, no suspicious meeting – to suggest Vance's life was in danger, nothing except the uneasy feeling filling Pete from top till toe. And the other undercover agents – they had all followed the operation and knew what kind of man John Gisbourne was. Hell, everyone in the force knew it, but no one dared to voice their suspicions aloud. He wanted to sigh, but held it in.

_Forget about Gary for a moment, concentrate on the brother. Don't want to blow this thing._

"So when's the show starting?" Pete fell back into the role as designated driver and personal body guard (he had risen in the ranks since his introduction a couple of month ago), asking coyly when he was going on another trip out of town delivering goods. The man in the straw chair looked out on the garden, face expressionless.

"It has been postponed." Pete hurried to hide the surprise on his face, schooling his features behind a mask of indifference. That was an important piece of information. The drug deal had been moved to a later date, why?

"Okay," he replied non-fazed, taking a gulp of the beer. The familiar liquid rolled easily down his throat, but he stopped himself from drinking more. Even if drinking created a sense of relaxation within, easing his fears, and put the targets at ease, he needed to stay clear on this case – strict orders from the top. Mac had been very convincing.

"Gary's case putting it off?" Pete asked, his muscles tensing a notch as the possible reasons started rolling through his mind like an old-fashioned commercial break in the cinemas. Gisbourne looked up at him slowly, dragging the time out. He looked like he knew something Pete didn't, and he despised the feeling that followed.

"Just another problem needing a solution," Gisbourne said with a ghost of a smile. Shivers went down Pete's spine.

He was about to reply when the glass door to the veranda opened and the strict black-dressed Theodore Fitz exited. This was Gisbourne's cunning lawyer, now representing little brother Gisbourne in a combined murder and sexual assault case. Pete felt foreboding creep into his bones as the suitcase in Fitz's hand was laid on top of the small table beside the straw chair and Gisbourne smiled formally.

The man gestured for Pete to leave and he did without question. However, as soon as he got inside the glass doors, he let it stand slightly ajar and hid from view. This was a conversation he needed to hear. If his intuition was right, big brother Gisbourne was thinking of the possibility to influence his brother's case. Pete only hoped it was not something that had already happened.

"Make sure you get this," he murmured lowly, speaking to his colleagues in the Com-V. He checked the wire, turned it on maximal and leaned closer to the opening without being seen.

Gisbourne had already asked a question. Pete's ears strained to hear the response, trying to find out what he asked about.

"They're on their way here now. Should arrive in an hour."

Pete could almost feel the smile cruising Gisbourne's lips. "Good, good." A pause, and then… "Make sure it looks like an accident. We want to escape suspicious eyes and ears, right?"

"Of course," Fitz answered smugly. "Everything will go according to plan."

"And if there's a failure…" said Gisbourne slowly.

"Those responsible will be relieved of their duty." There was a pause before there was a shuffling of chairs and Pete hurried to move out of sight in case they ventured inside. However, they stayed out on the balcony. He risked a glance, seeing the lawyer seated in another straw chair, Gisbourne standing by the railing with his eyes set out on the sky. He was still speaking.

"—the trouble I go to for him."

"He has done the same for you, sir," Fitz said, staring over the rim of his glasses at a stock of papers. Gisbourne turned slightly, looking at him with a smile. Pete drew back a little, fearing exposure.

"What brother wouldn't?" the tall dark-head asked rhetorically. "It doesn't matter really. Word about her has gotten round. I should be glad she's stationed in Sydney, or my 'free time activities' would've been revealed." He grinned now, which filled Pete's stomach with lead as he realised what was going on. "Besides, she threatened my family. Even legal procedures cannot save her now."

And then he moved on to another topic. Pete didn't stay around long enough to hear what it was about. He quickened into an empty room, found his mobile and pushed the auto-dialler. The voice at the other side of the line replied quickly.

"You got that?" he asked, looking around himself to see if anyone was listening or watching him. "Get it down to HQ. They've got to get her to safety now."

* * *

Tessa's tense muscles didn't relax until she had put both feet on the hard floor near the baggage reclaim, and seating herself on one of the cushioned benches while Steve went to get their luggage. She pulled the water bottle from her handbag and devoured the lukewarm water greedily, shaking off the nervous fluttering following their plane trip. Putting it back, she looked around the large hall to familiarise herself.

It was several years since she had been here, and then it had been to attend a funeral of a distant relative. Not being close with said relative, Tessa had wanted to stay back in Sydney, but her mother had pestered her long enough to make her feel bad about not going and in the end they had gone. The trip had been as awful as this one, though without the nausea following her pregnancy, and had not brought her anything but a hollow feeling inside. She had not been in a funeral since her father's. That shook her up a little, more than she had wanted at the time.

However, there was no dead relative she came to visit now, Tessa told herself firmly. She was there to testify against Gary Gisbourne in a murder case. And then she and Steve would go home and get on with their lives. No funeral this time.

_Unless he wants to bump you off._

"Earth to Tessa," someone said suddenly beside her. She jumped in her seat, looking up to see Steve giving her an apologetic smile. He was cute when he looked like that, she mused. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He held a hand out to her and she took it gently, locking the thought of Gisbourne away in a secret compartment in the back of her mind.

"Got the suitcase?" she asked, letting herself be pulled to her feet. Steve nodded, gesturing to the large ordinary-looking suitcase on the trolley behind him. They had opted for sharing baggage space instead of bringing separate bags. It was not like there was anyone going to harass them for fraternization based on a shared suitcase.

Easing out of her memories, Tessa smiled and leaned against him. His arm went round her shoulders by habit, hugging her to him. Familiar smell of dusk and earth filtered through her nostrils. As always, it managed to calm her down.

"You okay?" Steve gave her a worried look. Warmth expelled from beneath his dark suit, creeping into her bones. She snuggled into the crook of his arm, nodding.

"Yeah, just want to get out of here." It earned her a chuckle.

"Who'd have thought an air port would freak Detective Tessa Vance out where a murder scene couldn't?" he teased, pushing the trolley in front of them as they started to walk. She punched him mockingly in the arm, a smile coming back on her lips. No matter how down she was, she could always rely on Steve to bring her up again.

With no great need in hurrying to the city, they took their time in going through the big hall and towards the exit. Steve was handling the trolley with one hand, his other arm lying snugly round her shoulders. Tessa had slipped her arm around his waist, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles beneath her fingers. It was so liberating to finally be able to show their feelings publicly.

After they got together more than a year prior and up to about seven months ago, they had hid their relationship from both friends and family. It had been difficult in the beginning, hiding their emotions, but they had done it out of fear. Fear to be forced to switch partners – or even division – by the top heads. From a romantically perspective, one would usually say one did anything just to stay together, but in their case it had also concerned their working relationship. They were a match, both personally and work-related. There could be no other. Both were aware of that.

Four months flew by where they snuck in and out of each other's apartments, shared secret smiles above the computer screens, brushed lightly over limbs and generally did everything in their power to keep their relationship from becoming common knowledge yet at the same time being in love. However, working in an environment where people were experts in digging forth the truth based on loose hints, not to mention that keeping the relationship secret was difficult when you had just got together, it was bound to be discovered sooner of later. As Tessa and Steve experienced, it happened at a moment they had let all guards down and shared a gentle kiss outside the S & M.

At first, their friends had been shocked, yet not surprised, and then even Fisk had extended his approval of their relationship. However, the sentiment was soon succeeded by a warning on keeping it low-key unless Malcolm got the wind of it, and they had agreed. But should it come to it, the trio had promised to stick up for them, even if it meant facing the wrath of Inspector Malcolm Thorne. The declaration of loyalty had touched Tessa's inner strings and the night had been the first of many in which she finally could act free around Steve and not worry about it ending up on Thorne's desk.

But nothing was meant to last, and even Malcolm learned the truth in the end. How he knew, neither of them could understand, and the trio had sworn afterwards it had not been either of them. The hard core was, however, that somehow Malcolm had found out and they had been called in behind closed doors. Tessa remembered she had been half-shivering like a maple leaf, though she suspected it was only she who noticed. Steve had been too wound up in his own thoughts, and their boss had been busy closing the door and staring calmly at both of them.

After a long and stretched silence, the stern Inspector had opened his mouth and came with the biggest surprise of their lives. He gave away a few subtle guidelines for partners becoming intimate, about keeping the private life and work apart, to not let their emotions interfere with the case procedures, and so on. He had certainly not come with any clear statement saying he disapproved or approved, but there had been something in his voice and his eyes that made them go for the latter.

And with the stealthy support from Thorne – he couldn't show his approval openly – along with a last comment on keep it low, Tessa and Steve had said nothing but "yes, sir" and left his office. Both would be eternally grateful for his and their friends support, even if it had as of present time not come up to the Personnel department.

Life had been only become more perfect with the knowledge they could be freer about their feelings, at least outside work.

_And outside the city_, Tessa thought with a wry smile, remembering they were actually here on work but still… Being in another state certainly loosened the tight collar around their necks.

With their friends into the loop, Tessa and Steve had reasoned it was time to spill the beans to their families. Otherwise Tessa's mum would hear it through the police grapevine (namely old friends of Tessa's father which she had reconciled herself with after years of being out of reach), and from there matters would roll so quick they would hardly get to bat an eye before even Steve's family had learned the truth as well. So they had made the respective calls, all arranging for visits to their parents with "a special friend" tagging along. To say their mothers had been curious would be an understatement.

First out had been Tessa's mum and step-dad in their home in a town northwest of Sydney. Tessa and Steve had taken a weekend and drove up there on the highway, alternating in taking the wheel and arriving in the afternoon. After a shy and awkward introduction, at least on Tessa's part, her mum had become absolutely smitten with Steve and given her wholehearted consent. She had even promptly told Tessa to hang onto him at any cost because he was a winner for life.

With one family out of the way and happy for them, Tessa had become very apprehensive again when they flew down to meet Steve's family. They loaned a car at the air port and drove to the farm where the whole Hayden family had been gathered – parents, siblings, in-laws, nieces and nephews. Tessa had felt like being on exhibition, at least until the first round of introductions was over. Once Mary Hayden had gushed over her and commended Steve on his choice of woman, everything had rolled easy. They had welcomed her into their warmth and shown her how it was to be a large family – Tessa was an only child – and Steve had told her on the trip home that his sisters had decided she was definitely a keeper. It had made her blush furiously, but feel wonderful.

Tessa wondered for a minute if her mother had already contacted Mary Hayden for cooperating on the wedding. She wouldn't put it past her, even if it was just hours since Tessa had broken the news. She could envision the sight: the two middle-aged women sitting behind towers of invitation cards, seating arrangements, food preparation and the like, chatting about future grandchildren. Like a knitting circle, with tea cups, cookies and the whole package.

_It feels so good to be past all fears of rejection and disapproval, and not know they were proven wrong._

To have the support of friends and family, Tessa had after the various meetings finally felt she could put it all lies behind her – at least half-way behind as they still needed to keep it from the brass – and concentrate on her and Steve's relationship. And what amazing months that followed! She had never felt more in love than during the past seven months, and the emotion had only been boosted after they discovered her pregnancy two months prior.

When they had learned Tessa was eight weeks pregnant, both she and Steve had extremely excited, but also very apprehensive about telling their families. Being Catholics, abortion had never even entered the picture, but they did have the tiny problem of not being in a holy matrimony.

However, their fears were yet again stilled as the future grandmothers and aunts squealed in joy and hugged them both and the future step-grandfather, grandfather and uncles grinned and smacked Steve's back and kissed Tessa's cheek. No one had mentioned marriage at all, although it had certainly been on Tessa's mind since even before the discovery of her pregnancy, and as she found out yesterday, so had it apparently been on Steve's.

"What's with the smile?" The handsome man beside her peered down at her curiously, drawing her half-way out of her magnificent memories. A rush of happiness surged through her as she brightened further.

"Just thinking about last night," Tessa murmured lovingly, sending him a knowing glance. He grinned, turning slightly towards her.

"Still can't believe you actually said 'yes'." She raised an eyebrow, drawing back a little from his embrace. They slowed to an unhurried stroll.

"Why's that? I thought I made it expressively clear last night…" Her voice lowered huskily towards the end, giving him no doubts about which part of her declaration she was referring to.

"I think you'll have to say it once more," he replied with a teasing grin, consciously ignoring what she was hinting at. They were at a public location; he did have some decency left. She rolled her eyes briefly, but was willing to play along.

"Since you ask so nicely… Because I love you more than I believed myself capable of, because I want to share my life with you forever not just at work, because you're the father of my unborn baby, and because you're down-right gorgeous, sexy." Her eyebrows waggled suggestively, a grin threatening to split her face in two. His eyes twinkled warmly, his grip round her shoulders slightly more hugging.

Ever since the first time they were spoken, she had noticed Steve tended to get a little mushy whenever Tessa uttered those three little words. And the other way round she admitted with a fluttering sensation from the depth of her being.

He stopped completely, turning with a wide smile. His soft lips were warm on hers, making it tingle nervously in her toes, in a good way.

"I love you too, beautiful," Steve spoke softly as he withdrew, his eyes filled with happiness. Sad to let him go so quickly, Tessa brought his head down for another toe-curling kiss before withdrawing herself, consciously aware they were near the customs exit and surrounded by a tenfold of people. They were not always this free about their emotions in public. It was just a spur of the moment, driven by the atmosphere. Her hand slipped into his.

"I like it when you blush," he whispered lowly into her ear, using that special tone of voice which always made her stomach tremble in excitement. She almost wished they were anywhere but at the air port. Well, the hotel was their next stop…

Tessa cleared her throat.

"I think we should get going. Don't want to block the exit." Steve nodded smugly, clearly aware of how he affected her and enjoying every minute of it. She tried not to let it send her in a fit.

They went to stand in line as the customs officers selected a random few and went through their bags and suitcases. With a trained eye, Tessa surveyed the ten-odd people standing before them in the queue. Most didn't look like they would smuggle something illegal in their bags, but there were always surprises. Even the most innocent-looking teenage girl could be a drilled courier of small-packed heroin doses.

She noticed how some were picked up by a free customs officer and led to an empty table where their luggage was turned upside-down and searched through with skilled hands.

Not having anything of illegal property – the gun lying unloaded and securely in a box in the suitcase was quite legal – Tessa was prepared to go through unchecked. However, just as she was about to take a step towards the exit, a hand was laid upon her shoulder and held her back. Surprised, she turned round to see a chubby, elderly man in customs uniform peer inquiring at her.

"Better come here, miss."

Knowing there was no reason to argue and that the matter of her gun would be solved easily, Tessa took the suitcase from the trolley and followed him over to the wall. She cast a look over her shoulder to see Steve being led away by another officer. Turning back to the man in charge, she was surprised to see they were not being led towards the tables, but to a closed door separated from the hallway. Frowning, she felt trepidation fill her as the man opened the door and gestured for her to enter.

She stepped through slowly and stopped in wait for Steve just inside the doorway, eying the chubby man as he passed her. Steve came seconds later, looked suspicious, but managed to hide it well behind a mask of forged calmness. Tessa was not so sure of her own expression. She had never been good at poker.

The last customs officer exited and closed the door behind them. Whether he locked it or not, Tessa couldn't be sure, as the chubby man urged them further down the hallway. Steve came up beside her, so close their shoulders were barely touching, and she spared him a look of curiosity as he put his hand comfortingly on her lower back. He stared grimly at her, clearly saying with his eyes what he didn't want to voice out loud.

_This is not right. Something's wrong.  
It's Gisbourne.  
Don't be silly, he's in jail.  
He's got a brother. Big brother, nonetheless. Big brother sees you._

Tessa forced the thought as far back in her mind as she could, and let Steve take the suitcase from her as they started walking. His hand on her back was reassuring, secure, but she still began to feel uneasy. The chubby officer walked confidently down the bleached floor, his arms swaying like he was going to start whistle a while-we're-working tune anytime soon. Like a peacock, she thought. He seemed so sure of himself, in a way that didn't become a customs officer. Sure, they could be very sure of themselves when catching a smuggler, but Tessa and Steve were not smugglers. They were police officers, detectives, and even in ordinary clothes Tessa suspected people could see what line of work they were in, at least customs officers with an eye for details.

"Where are we going?" Tessa asked, surveying the new hallway waiting just around the corner. There was a security camera just below the ceiling, directed straight at them. Relief surged through her.

Steve threw a hurried look over his shoulder at the man behind them. When there was not even a twitch of lips or wrinkle in his face, Steve looked back at her, suspicious. A slight prickling ran over her skin as Tessa grew worried. Her hairs stood on end as she saw the camera's red light was not turned on. It was off. No one was watching them.

"Where are you taking us?" Tessa repeated again, forcing her voice to stay calm and measured. They couldn't know she was on to them, or they would lose the element of surprise should the perfect occasion rise for it.

Edging closer to Steve, she nudged him in the side and threw a pointed look down at the suitcase between them when he stared at her. It took a second for him to realise what she was hinting at, but that it didn't take longer told her he was growing as wary as her and had had the thought cross his mind. Their guns were in that suitcase, unloaded and secure, however a drilled hand like theirs would only take a minute to load it. They would just need a diversion, a big diversion.

And the next room they entered, an unused office, provided just that. While her hand wound its way surreptitiously towards the lock on the suitcase, Tessa set her eyes on an office chair standing just a little off to the side. The chubby man was still strutting in front of them, his back turned though showing muscles tense in expectation. They were expecting trouble, but Tessa had a feeling it was not from them. She furtively took a deep breath, nodding barely to Steve to say she was ready.

By self-brought accident, Tessa's jacket hefted on the elbow-rest of the office chair, efficiently making enough interruption for the chubby man to turn around. Just as Steve turned abruptly towards the man behind, Tessa swung the handbag off her shoulder, letting it pick up speed until it suddenly slammed the chubby man smack middle in the face. She was sure the heavy book in the handbag had a large role to play in the following scene.

He grunted, caught completely off-guard, and stumbled backwards into the wall, causing an old picture frame to fall down and crack in a thousand pieces. Behind her she heard another body hit something hard, and spared a quick look to see Steve fling the man into the ground by his jacket.

A rush of relief went through her, but only lasted for a minute until something hard hit her in the chest and knocked the wind out of her. Tessa had forgotten the chubby man, who had gotten to his feet faster than she anticipated and was now all over her. He was grasping her by the upper arms, pinching hard into her skin. His eyes were raving, his voice harsh as he spoke.

"You shouldn't've done that, girley." Her shoulder smashed into the hard corner of the desk, numbing her senses. She cried out against the sudden pain, somewhere in her mind thinking about the baby.

_Don't harm the baby.  
Fight, Tessa, fight. Don't let him win.  
The baby…  
Fight!_

Mustering whatever strength she had left in her body, Tessa brought her knee up hard against the man's groin. The weight above her disappeared, leaving her to bounce up on her feet, scrambling towards the abandoned suitcase for the gun. On the other side of the groaning chubby man, who was swearing loudly at her, she saw Steve and the other man locked in a fist-fight, and her heart fell for a second when Steve took a direct hit to the side of his face. He stumbled backwards, shaking his head disorientated.

"Steve!" She managed to open the locks quickly, immediately finding the box in which her gun lay beneath the lid and opening it up quickly. The chubby man had gotten to his knees and was heading towards her, his eyes wild. Blood thrummed in her ears, her hands a little clumsy as they found the ammunition compartment and tried to load it into the gun.

Steve managed to deliver a hard blow to the man's stomach, just as the compartment slid into the gun with a resonant _click_. The chubby man was growling, but Tessa couldn't hear what he said, her mind numbed by the pain in her shoulder though focused on bringing her gun up.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A sudden voice and cold steel pressed threateningly against her neck.

Tessa felt her breath escape her as cool wind rushed through the now open door behind her, and the chubby man got to his feet, looking at something up and behind her. The other uniform-clad man had noticed too, and received enough will to fight to get Steve off his feet and down on the ground.

"Put that down," the voice spoke again, pressing further. She gulped, slowly doing as the voice said. A foot appeared beside her, kicking away the gun into the leering hands of the chubby man, who had also somehow found Steve's gun. Her heart was beating rapidly, pumping the nausea up from her stomach. She forced herself to take a deep breath.

_Don't let them harm the baby.  
I can't do anything now.  
Give him another round if needed.  
If they kill me, they'll kill the baby as well. Which purpose would that serve?_

"On your feet," the chubby man snarled, fastening her gun in his belt and giving the other to his comrade, his face twisted in lingering anger. "And this time without the fuss. I'd kill you for that blow if he didn't specifically ask for you alive." His hand clutched the front of her jacket, pulling her up. Her shoulder objected to the harsh treatment, but Tessa bit the pain back, eyes searching for Steve.

He stood with his arms hanging at his sides, alternating his glance between the gun pointed at him, and her. His left cheek was red and slightly swollen, but it wouldn't turn into a bruise. Concern filled his eyes as they met hers. Tessa tried to smile encouragingly, saying she was fine, but all she managed was gritting her teeth as the one behind her shoved her hard in the bad shoulder.

"Get moving," the gruff voice said. "Time frame's thin after this little detour."

The person turned out to be another male, younger, though clad in a maintenance uniform. So that was how they managed to do the cameras. He urged her out of the office with the tip of his gun and down a narrow hallway which seemed to be rarely used. Inside a maintenance workshop they were met by two other men, these dressed in overalls sputtered with oil stains.

Tessa tried to get close to Steve again, but the men had learned from their blunder and now kept them effectively apart. She suppressed the bile as it rose once more, focusing on anything but the pain, the fear and the despair wanting to overthrow her. The very thought of crumbling under their yoke made her slightly flushed. She was a police officer, she was meant to handle unexpected situations like it was second-nature. It was what people relied on them to do. Other lives were at stake here as well as hers; she had to be in control. Otherwise she would lose ground, fall head-first into the mud, not able to get up and thus lose to a greedy, murdering bastard. She couldn't allow that to happen.

_Focus on something else. Turn on the work modus. Think. Concentrate. Whose orders are they working under?  
The man said something about a 'he'. It must be Gisbourne, who else?  
Gisbourne's still in custody awaiting his trial.  
But John Gisbourne would risk his skin to save his brother, wouldn't he? Or rather the skin of his lackeys._

Tessa shook her head slightly, not quite believing all the things running through her mind. This whole situation felt surreal, yet was as real as the firm ground beneath her feet as they walked. It was strange really how fast the wind could change. Not more than twenty minutes ago, she had stepped out of the air plane in the belief there was nothing to worry about. Now, on the other hand… It would be a lie to say she was not frightened to the bone.

_Pull yourself together, Tessa. Don't crumble now. _

Being too caught up in her thoughts of suspicion, remembrance and fear, Tessa didn't realise they had wound up in a hanger until she felt the cool wind on her skin. Looking around she saw shelves of spare parts, barrels of oil and petrol, blackened, old and ruined parts belonging to smaller air crafts and two small planes probably in for reparation.

The men slowed to a halt in the first section of the hangar, three of the five spreading out on the lookout for an ambush while the other two guarded Tessa and Steve. Taking the chance it offered, she stepped closer to Steve, seeking his reassurance, his calmness, his strength. He managed to grasp her hand, squeezing it comfortingly, before their guards broke them up.

"No contact or we'll silence both of you, no matter the consequences."

Even Tessa could hear it was an empty threat, as the chubby man had said determinedly that someone, presumably Gisbourne, wanted her alive. Nevertheless, fear crept into her bones and she drew back sadly. Her shoulder was throbbing still, though the pain has lessened somewhat. Her hand drifted down to her stomach and settled over it protectively. She had not received any direct hits to her abdomen, but the stress could be a large portion of the cause for a miscarriage to happen.

_Don't think like that. The baby's fine. Repeat that to yourself. The baby's fine. The baby's fine._

The three scouts returned, all shaking their heads. The man who seemed to be in charge checked his watch, then nodded as if satisfied with himself. He looked up at his men.

"Exit in two minutes, south entrance. Let's go."

Like one, the men resumed their previous position, leading Tessa and Steve through the empty hangar. Only the slightly erratic breathing and sounds of heels on asphalt broke through the eerie silence of foreboding. Tessa couldn't keep her eyes to herself, watching their surroundings with a shred of hope that someone knew what was going on, had escaped the notice of Gisbourne's men and was there to rescue them. But as the minutes dragged by and the end of the hangar rose before them, the hope faded to a minimum.

_We won't get out of this._

Tessa's hand clenched the thick fabric of her jacket over her stomach, desperation starting to fill her body. The men seemed to relax more as they arrived near a bolted steel door, some of them even leering in a sense of victory. Gesturing to the men in front to go open the door, the leader rounded on them and pointed at Steve.

"Deal with him, I'm taking her out," he told the man beside Steve. "No mishaps."

Tessa threw her head up, realising what he was telling them to do. Her eyes widened as the lackey nodded and stuck his gun deep into Steve's back, shoving him in the wanted direction.

"No!" She moved towards him, locking eyes and seeing the fear flashing across them. Fear for her, not himself. Her arms stretched out, her pulse beating fitfully with bursts of despair, but she had not taken a step before her arms were wrenched backwards and locked tight behind her back. Pain surged up her already injured shoulder, and the force behind the surprise attack got her stumbling and falling against her attacker's chest.

Steve called out, trying to use the opportunity to wrench out of his captor's arms and knock the gun away from him. Struggling against the strong hold, only enforcing more pain in her shoulder, Tessa watched with frightened eyes the leader drew his gun and positioned himself in clear view of Steve.

Time passed killingly slow as Steve got free and turned around, standing face to face with…

"Police! Drop the gun!"

The shout came suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, followed quickly by several more voices and shuffling of feet. Uniformed police officers streamed through the steel door and from other corners of the hangar, all raised guns pointed at the three lackeys.

Caught by surprise, the leader and his remaining men lost focus, and Tessa managed to kick her man in the shins before escaping his hold. Relief and frantic happiness at being free overwhelmed her senses as she stumbled towards Steve. Just as the leader dropped the gun to the ground and raised his hands in the air, Steve caught her huddled form in his arms and drew her in a fiercely protective embrace.

"You okay?" he asked, slightly out of breath, his eyes wide open in frantic concern. His hands reached up to her face, cupping her cheeks as he scrutinized her looks. Tessa's own hand reached up to carefully touch the red mark on his face. Steve winced a little, but reassured her quickly of his good state when her eyes widened. "Are you hurt?" Steve repeated, noticing she was vaguely gritting her teeth when he hugged her frame.

"My shoulder took a blow back in the office," Tessa explained lowly, done with the scrutinising and just seeking the security and comfort his arms could offer. He pressed her tight to his chest, his wild heart beat contradicting the otherwise calm exterior. She could feel her own heart hammering against her ribcage. Around them people were moving, officers laying the three men in irons, but Tessa couldn't care less. She wanted to fly away, to leave the shock and fear behind and seek peace and quiet with Steve.

However, that peace was not meant to last.

"Detectives Vance and Hayden?"

Tessa reluctantly drew back, though still locked tight in Steve's embrace, to find a pair of non-uniformed officers standing just a metre away. One was a woman, dark-haired and about Tessa's age, while the other was a man in his early forties, his head covered in shockingly red hair with an equal colourful moustache beneath his nose. They drew identical badges belonging to the Victorian Police Department.

"I'm detective Christine Day," the woman spoke calmly, before gesturing to the man. "This is my partner Bill Murphy. We're here to get you to the station safe and sound. Do you require medical attention?" The woman looked them over, brows creased in sympathy. Steve gave her a questioned look; though he seemed to want her undergo a medical examination no matter what she said. Just to check that everything was as it should be.

But Tessa shook her head. She didn't want to see a doctor, not now. The shock was overpowering her senses, dulling the numb pain and nausea she knew raged inside. Perhaps later, once she had managed to calm down, to get things in perspective.

"You sure?" murmured Steve worriedly, low enough not to be heard by the waiting detectives. "What about the baby?"

"It's okay; I wasn't hit in the stomach or right below the chest. The doctor said that's the critical areas, anywhere else should be safe. And I have a good feeling," Tessa added firmly when Steve raised a critical eyebrow. "We're both fine." It took another moment before Steve sighed resigned and accepted her decision, even if he didn't agree with it.

"We won't need a doctor," Steve turned and informed the detectives, sliding into his cool, professional manner. "But thanks for your concern." He offered them a smile, before looking back at Tessa and giving a final worried look as they were herded out of the hangar. Though, Tessa held them back, staring towards the way they had come.

"Our guns, the suitcase," she pressed.

"They took our guns," Steve explained to the detectives, "And our suitcase's probably back in the office where we left it, some five-ten minutes from here. Not sure where exactly." Murphy gestured for a constable to fetch the guns confiscated from the bandits, and they took them carefully from the proffered hands, making sure everything was alright before unloading them. Steve made to return for the suitcase, but the elder detective held a hand up.

"We'll take care of it. Just follow Christine out to the cars and get settled in. I'll make sure the suitcases goes to the right destination." They nodded in agreement and let the female detective – Day – lead them out the thick steel door, past uniformed police cars where their "kidnappers" were stowed together, and to an unmarked Mercedes-Benz standing a little to the side. Tessa turned her head firmly away as the police cars fired up their engines and set off with their prisoners, not wanting to see the twisted face of the chubby man once again.

_I want to forget this.  
You won't. It's not over. He's still out there._

Steve's hand never left hers as they climbed into the backseat, and he squeezed it comfortingly. She turned her head away, not wanting him to see the tears finally fall down her cheeks.

* * *

Ellen Mackenzie, or Mac as she was referred to, was standing in the front of the conference room when the message came. The Sydney Detectives had entered the building and Christine and Bill were bringing them up here now.

The news had brought back the apprehension she had forced back in an effort to switch off the John Gisbourne case. Beside the new piece of information on Gisbourne ordering for an accident to occur and thus getting rid of prosecution's star witness, Church had not learned anything else about the case they were first and foremost working on. She wanted to bust John Gisbourne for a number of things, but right now there was a large shipment of drugs waiting around the corner with his greedy fingerprints on. The Gary Gisbourne-Tessa Vance case had just been number two on her list of priorities, but the brass had pushed it up to number one, and there was no defying the top.

For a moment, Mac wondered how this sought-after detective from Sydney was. From the media's point of view, not to mention the prosecution's, Tessa Vance sounded like she was one of a kind, like one of those cops you saw on television shows that solved the case like there was no obstacles at all, which experience had shown Mac was too good to be true. There was always something getting in the way, always something stalling the time it took to get to the killer. There was no such thing as a superhero detective, everyone had flaws.

Mac had been tempted to look at Vance's service records, just to get a picture of her, but it would have been prejudicial, not to mention this was not even her case. Elder brother Gisbourne was her target, not a suit from Sydney. She would do better to stay out of it.

_But that's not the case. You've landed yourself in the thick of this, Ellen._

Just under twenty minutes ago, Mac had received news of what had transpired at the air port. It had been what they feared; Gisbourne's men had come first and taken them. Christine and Bill had reported witnesses seeing them being led away from customs and had raised the alarm. The air port was big and it was easy to lose sight of someone, and when the security cameras had suffered technical problems throughout the complex, they had believed they were too late. However, by a stroke of faith the police had managed to get a fix on their location and arrived just before they disappeared.

This new turn of event meant Mac had to involve herself deeper in the matter of protection. Vance's life was high-maintenance now that they had physical evidence of someone being after her blood, not just an insinuation based on Church's eavesdropping. She could no longer be a passive player; it was time to be aggressive. Church would need to know to step up his investigation, to expand his search to include information on the Vance case.

A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts and back to the present situation.

Mac turned when the door opened to first admit Bill Murphy, then a petite, slim blonde dressed in a long moss green cardigan over a cream-coloured top, and dark comfortable thigh-hugging khakis. A brown jacket lay slung over her arm. The long, fair hair spilled down on her shoulders in a way Mac was sure belonged to the out-of-uniform outfit. It looked like it was usually pulled up, arranged in a pretty but easy to manage hairdo. The woman's blue eyes surveyed the room, looking tense but controlled.

Tessa Vance was beautiful, but it was not her looks that piqued Mac's interest. It was the way she carried herself, the sharp intelligence flashing across her eyes. This woman had seen a lot, she was experienced. In other words, she was not the kind of detective Mac had expected.

Whatever emotions flickering in Vance's eyes as she crossed the threshold, it all dissolved when she met Mac's dark eyes and professionalism spread across her features. Mac extended a hand, meeting firm fingers under hers. The Sydney detective looked a little under the weather, which was not entirely unexpected given the last hour's happenings. She sat down in one of the chairs around the conference table.

Following the small detective was a tall, dark-haired man with composed eyes and a down-to-earth kind of expression. Tessa Vance's partner, Steve Hayden, Mac reasoned. Not as a big attraction as Vance in the Gisbourne case, but still there to testify alongside her and support her recounting of the events.

Dark jacket, opened to show a navy blue sweater over a white shirt. Complimented with dark beige trousers, the clothes suited his well-toned body well in a way Mac was sure his ordinary suit didn't grant him. With the slightly narrowed eyes—_Bedroom eyes,_ thought Mac—detective Hayden looked like one of those who would appear imposing with just a change of stature, no matter what he wore – it worked well both outside and inside the interrogation rooms.

They shook hands, a formal smile grazing his lips. Mac noticed he brushed Vance's shoulder lightly as he sat down beside her. A silent communication passed between them. Mac felt oddly left out.

Shaking it off, she finished the formal introductions, gesturing for Bill and Christine to take a seat as well. The five officers glanced at each other briefly before Mac started the meeting.

"I'm sure you all know why you're here." Vance's brow furrowed slightly, but she otherwise looked composed and calm. "But I'll repeat it anyway. This morning, approximately two hours ago, word got out that John Gisbourne wanted an accident arranged to prevent someone witnessing in his brother's trial. This turned out to be you, Detective." The woman-in-question only nodded curtly, meeting Mac's gaze full-on. She furtively cleared her throat. "The situation's been up with the brass and they believe, as do I, that when Gisbourne learns you escaped his claws at the air port, he will try again. In light of that, a safe house with police guards has been arranged for you during your stay here in Melbourne."

"Is it just for me or is Steve coming along?" Vance looked apprehensive about the answer, her eyes widening a little. Hayden didn't look at her, but his shoulders seemed to have tensed ever so slightly.

"Both," Mac replied, noting the detectives in front of her were relieved at the news. _Real friendship and care about each other_; they had to go long back in time. Mac allowed a small smile. "You'll be escorted to the safe house later in the day, but first you'll meet with the DA, Mr Macarthur, about your testimonies." Both nodded in affirmation, already aware of the meeting.

"About the safe house, exactly how safe is it?" This came from Hayden, still calm and composed, and he shot a quick look at his partner as he said it. She was looking a little peachy; perhaps the day was taking its toll on her. Not that Mac would hold it against her. She had had her fair bit of kidnappings and assaults.

"The safe house's equipped with intruder alarms along with all necessary domestic details and groceries. You'll have two officers inside the house with you, and two non-uniformed cars will be posted outside on the streets as lookout. You brought your guns with you?"

Mac resisted the urge to raise an eyebrow when both nodded affirmatively. They must have realised the situation could be bad once they got here. No other reason to explain it – they would need permission from their division head to bring them along; otherwise it would be against the rules.

"Okay, that's taken care of then," she said conversationally, bringing up the next topic. "When it's time for you to go to the safe house, you'll be picked up by two civilian-clothed police officers. Their names are Oscar Stone and Angie Piper; ask for their IDs, just in case."

The additional remark was spoken casually, but Mac could see both detectives perk their ears at it, even Christine and Bill looked unsettled. She was fully aware she was suggesting someone would pull a few strings and get into the department in order to get rid of Vance. In fact, with Gisbourne's connections high and low, she wouldn't expect anything else, hence the subtle warning.

Being the most level-headed, from what Mac could surmise at least, Hayden nodded gravely while Vance shifted uneasily in her seat. She was paling by the second, and Mac wondered about her state of mind. Knowing someone was after your blood certainly messed up with your brain, and could in some cases result in making fatal mistakes. For Vance's sake, Mac hoped it wouldn't come to that. She seemed like a good, decent cop, only out for justice through police procedures, not some solo spin-off with a nervous finger.

"Any further questions?" Mac glanced at the faces around the table.

Bill and Christine had been through this brief before, as they had been assigned as escorts and watchdogs, and had had their questions answered. They were taking up one of the cars tonight, even if they had volunteered for being inside the house. The mere possibility had caused Mac to pull two people from her own unit into the safe house. Not only because they were experienced in such cases and knew both Gisbournes and their ways, but it was also a matter of trust. Even the straightest cop could be bought, and Mac couldn't afford to take chances out in the field. Here at the station was another matter, though.

"Will we stay in the safe house until and during the trial?" Hayden again, this time drawing his hand secretly under the table and brushing his partner's thigh; Mac wanted to frown again, puzzled about them. Vance tilted her head slightly, then looked as if she regretted the action and took a deep breath instead. Her eyes were set on the hard surface of the table.

"That's the safest way in preserving your lives," Mac replied, watching as the pale colour in Vance's cheeks received a green tint. She looked like she was going to be sick any moment. Christine was moving in her seat on the left side of Mac. "Are you okay?" Mac directed her question at Vance, now being under the concerned scrutiny of her partner.

"Could you tell me where to find the ladies'?" said Vance, licking her lips and swallowing. Her eyes bulged slightly behind closed eyelids.

Brows creasing in concern, Mac gestured for Christine to show her the way. Vance said thanks, stood on shaky feet and dismissed Hayden's attempt at following, before letting herself be led out of the conference room. Hayden stared at the door long after it had closed, looking earnestly worried.

"Been a tough day for her," Mac suggested, locking eyes with the dark-haired detective. There was a mixture of emotions in his face as he replied, though a trace of delight received most weight in Mac's think tank. Was he delighted his partner was sick? No, he couldn't be – he was too worried about her. She let the absurdity of the possibility pass to the back of her mind.

Hayden shook his head barely, his hands folded on top of the table. "That too, but those kind of things she can handle." He seemed to hesitate in saying anything further, only giving fuel to Mac's curiosity. She felt there was a piece missing and her investigative mind wanted nothing else but to find it.

"Something wrong? She's not sick?"

"You mean if she's seriously ill? No. At least nothing long-term," Hayden added, the delight appearing on his face again. The mystery deepened, at least until he spoke next. "She's pregnant." He smiled slightly. Mac returned it after a momentary shock.

_That clears it up a bit. _

"Congratulations," Bill said earnestly beside her, to which the other man only nodded thanks. Still mystified at where Hayden fit into the picture – he wasn't the father was he? They were partners, after all – Mac nevertheless offered her own best wishes before the room lapsed into silence.

After five more minutes, Vance returned to the room with Christine in tow and sat down in her previous chair. In the brief moments it took her from the door to the table, Mac had managed to see the slight swell hidden underneath the moss green cardigan.

_Wonder how I didn't notice before.  
She's covered it up well.  
She wants to hide it because of the job.  
No, not quite. She's just reacting to what's happening around her. She's trying to shield it from harm.  
Makes you wonder about your own future…_

Mac smiled at the other woman, who looked better, though still pale. The beautiful eyes locked with Hayden's, again speaking to each other without saying a word out loud.

Checking her watch, Mac decided they could break it up here and let the two detectives get some food and drinks before the DA's meeting. Leaving them in the capable hands of Christine and Bill and with instructions for the next couple of hours, Mac turned her mind firmly away from this case and back onto the drug sting as she left the station. She needed to get back to the Factory and hear if Church had come up with anything worthwhile, along with discussing the safe house procedures with Oscar and Angie.

_This is going to be a long day. _

Mac turned the ignition on and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

_To be continued. . . _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: **All fates are interconnected, what affects one also affects others. When Tessa is threatened on her life before a trial and has to go into protection, it will change more than one life.

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **Don't own the books about Tessa Vance, which includes the characters. They all belong to Jennifer Rowe. Also, I do not own Stingers and its characters either – they belong to Channel 9 Network and Beyond Simpson Le Mesuire.

* * *

**For Whom the Bell Tolls **

_- The fates of all human beings are interconnected - whatever affects one of us affects us all._

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO  
**

The houses all looked the same to Angie as the car sped lazily down the street, turning here and there in an effort to shake off any suspicious tail. Usually this dodging around would become boring in the long run, but with the man and woman in the back seat, Angie was following the environment around the car attentively. As Mac has said, there was no room for mistakes in this case. One mission and that was to keep the target alive and well until the judge's verdict resounded within the court house.

_Whatever happens afterwards is their business,_ had lingered in Angie's mind after Mac's statement. The thought both infuriated her and made her acquiescent. In her opinion, the system of government needed a change, an update to fit today's society. It was ridiculous to only take responsibility of someone's life until they had done their part of the deal, like testifying, and then leave them to whatever wolves remaining on the outside.

_Like marionettes. Or pawns. Easy to sacrifice, easy to juggle around, do their bid's will._ These were one of the things Angie hated about her job, or more precisely the top of departments, the representatives in Parliament handling law enforcement. _Like during the First World War. Generals sat nice and comfy behind the lines, ordering men several hundred miles away to stand up and run across barb wire, mines and under heavy enemy fire from trench to trench. Suicide attacks. Mass murders._

To Tessa Vance, meeting the wolves meant facing the wrath of John Gisbourne, which would probably be doubled now that she had escaped his talons at the air port. Angie was unsure whether he would be caught and tried for this attempted kidnapping case or not. She doubted any of the minions down at the station were spilling the beans. Probably didn't even know who their boss was.

She glanced over at Oscar who sat behind the wheel, eyes jumping from the road to the rear and side mirrors and back to the car's surroundings. His hands were grasping the wheel a little tight, making his knuckles whiten slightly. Neither of them enjoyed safe house duty. It involved even more uncertainty than being out in the field. No control of the situation, only resorting themselves to wait until something or nothing happened.

They had been given their brief only hours ago by their dark-haired boss who had just come back from a meeting with the Sydney detectives. The necessary information had been provided for them, updating them on the latest news, as to who were going to be in the cars, what equipment and items were available in the safe house, and the fact that their main target was pregnant and while she had a specific diet to follow setting standards to the meals, she would require escort to the doctor should problems arise.

The list of groceries had been attained from the woman's partner while she sat with the DA—everyone had wryly agreed normal safe house meals consisted of such things a pregnant woman should avoid—and the undercover constables had dropped by a shop before picking up the detectives at the station. Angie had to confess she had become more concerned now that there was a third party in the picture. If something happened to Tessa, it would have consequences for her child, an innocent bystander in this screwed-up case.

For a moment, she wondered how the father of the baby was taking all this, and if he too was in town. But Mac had not mentioned it, so Angie assumed the Sydney detective had not said anything either, or that the man had probably stayed at home. It also seemed her partner mostly did the talking for her.

_Talk about knowing one another. _

Angie threw a look at Oscar again before returning to stare at the houses streaming past in a blur. It reminded her of herself and Oscar, really. They knew one another so well they might as well finish each other's sentences.

_Yet not doing anything about it._

Deciding not to tread on that particular subject today, Angie pushed it away from the front of her mind and concentrated on what lay ahead. When they came to the safe house she would check it out, making sure some suit back at the station had not gone bad on them and started a chain of events that would mess up this case. Mac had shared her assumptions and suspicions with them, explicitly telling them that she trusted no one beside the two of them (and the rest of the undercover unit), and that they better do so too. Not trust anyone that is, including Tessa Vance's partner, Steve Hayden. At least until he could prove them wrong. One never knew which one could have had a switch of loyalties.

"_Don't take risks; don't trust anyone, especially the guards on the outside as they're easier to be influenced by someone on the outside of the house. Otherwise you can end up on the other end of a gun barrel." _

Mac's exact words filtered back to her, reminding her of the heavy risk they were running with this operation. Gary Gisbourne's case was high-profile – if anything should happen in his favour, then it would be a swift, stealthy and massive attack against the safe house with a minimum or maximum of manslaughter.Angie saw Oscar too was marked by Mac's words, and though she wanted to throw the worst case scenarios off her shoulders in a shudder, she didn't allow herself to. She was a cop; she had to keep all possible situations open to keep the surprise from overwhelming her when or if they happened.

As the car took another turn, Angie drew herself out of her thoughts, tilting her head towards Oscar. "Anyone tailing us?" she asked seriously.

"I believe I've shook off any shadow many turns ago," he replied, checking the rear mirror again. He shook his head. "There's not a soul behind us."

Angie only let her muscles unclench slightly, but not fully. Even if there was no one there visibly, it didn't necessarily mean there was not _someone_ there. They could be concealed from view but still following them, and Oscar knew this as much as her. He was trying to downplay the situation in front of the detectives, or more specifically the female.

While Tessa Vance had seemed like woman in control of her emotions and a bit hard on the outside after exposure to murders for years, she had seemed jumpy and scared whenever someone raised a finger. Not to say she was completely up-and-down emotionally—the woman had been like steel when down at the station and during the first half-hour in the car—but once the silence stretched on and her thoughts were given free way to roam she became distant and at the same time held on to her partner like if he was her life line. In this town, he probably was.

Angie put it off as being because of this whole situation; this was probably not a common picnic trip. Hell, this was unusual even to Angie, and she was in an unusual line of work. But she didn't hold anything against the woman. Quite the opposite actually, if Tessa had been an ice queen and not the least worried about her life and that of her child's, Angie would have been seriously worried. Showing distress was not something bad, it was a part of the human element and completely normal.

_In comparison to heartless, murdering bastards who prey on other people's despair and death whenever there's something in it for them._

"We're closing in on the street now," Oscar informed loudly, including all four occupants of the car. Angie threw a furtive look across her shoulder to see Tessa had closed her eyes and laid her head on Steve's shoulders. His arm was around her shoulders protectively.

* * *

The car rolled onto the asphalted driveway, the artistic iron gate already pushed open, and Oscar shut the engine. He shifted in his seat to look at the couple in the back seat. 

"You all right?" he asked while removing the seat belt. Angie did the same. In the back, Tessa's eyes were fluttering open and she smiled sheepishly when she realised all eyes were on her and the car stood still.

"Fine, thank you." Her voice was strong, her face resuming the professional mask she had attained at the station. All traces of distress and fear vanished from her features. Steve withdrew his arm as she moved to unbuckle her seat belt and got out of the car. The rest of them followed her example, stretching their legs after being seated for nearly an hour. It had been quite a few detours in order to rid themselves of any shadow.

Angie went first towards the door, gesturing for them to wait while she checked the house. She found her gun as she stepped up to the front door. _Avoid risks, take no chances._

Already in the entryway she saw the signs of high security, with the several padlocks and strong bolts on the doorframe. From the entryway she came directly into the spacious living room, fully equipped with a sofa group and table with a TV set standing near the wall. A dining table for four stood farthest away, near the open doorway into a sufficiently up-to-date kitchen.

To her left as she entered was a stairway leading up to what she assumed were the bedrooms. Straight forward was a small hallway holding a small toilet, laundry room and a back door with equal security measures as the front door. She made sure it was locked and secure before ascending the stairs and searching through the medium-sized bathroom and three bedrooms, one master and two smaller.

Returning to the front door, she gave them the green light. Tessa came first, looking a little put off as her partner had just told her firmly he would take the suitcase. Angie's eyes widened a little as the woman passed her, and she stared out to the car where Steve was unloading a single suitcase from the boot.

_Just one suitcase? What about him?_

Angie took a second look as Oscar returned from closing the gate. Sure enough, only one suitcase trailed behind the dark-haired Sydney detective with the country accent. He gave her an easy smile as he entered, soon followed by Oscar carrying his and Angie's overnight bags and the shopping nets.

_Don't speculate. Friends can share, right?  
I haven't heard of many who have…  
Leave it. Get the groceries. Put your mind on something else._

"I'll take those," Angie offered and took the shopping nets from Oscar, ignoring the questioned stare when he discovered her frown, and walked purposely into the kitchen. Unaware of someone following her, Angie startled a little when Tessa suddenly stood beside her.

"Need help?" Tessa gazed around the room which would be part of her home for the next week or so, one hand lying surreptitiously above the swell of her abdomen. "I'm not allowed to carry anything, so I might as well find some other light task to do." She smiled wryly, putting Angie at ease.

"Sure, no problem," Angie replied with a smile, pushing all assumptions and suspicions to the back of her mind. "You can start with those." She pointed at the nets standing close to the fridge. Tessa nodded, setting to the task meticulously. The nets were filled with vegetables, meat, bread and all other edible things appropriate for a mother-to-be. Not that the other three would take any damage for eating healthy. God knew Angie was a faithful customer at take-away shops.

The women worked in silence for a while until Angie spoke up. "So how's life as Homicide detective in Sydney? Busy, I'd say, at least according to the latest rates."

"You'd believe right," Tessa answered, smiling slightly. She looked more in control when the subject concerned her work; a workaholic perhaps? "We've had our hands full for quite a while now, at least up until the Gisbourne case." She quietened at the mention, almost looking like she was trapped in old memories until she shrugged it off and hunched her shoulders. Angie didn't press, knowing that if they were going to spend a while together, she should try and gain the woman's trust. She could tell Tessa was still wary of her and Oscar. Perhaps Mac's warning had come to her as well.

So instead of asking what presently lay at the front of her mind, Angie switched subjects. "Are you hungry? It's probably a bit early, but I could make dinner or something lighter if you'd like."

_You sound like a nurse in a nursery home. 'Time for your pills, Mr Peterson. Be a dear and eat them all this time.'_

Tessa had finished unloading the nets, now stuffing the plastic together in small balls and pushing it into the cupboard beneath the sink. "I don't know, can't say my appetite's been very great lately."

Angie nodded in understanding, leaning against the bench. "I've been there myself, threatened on my life before a trial, I mean. Not the best of experiences… But you should eat something, at least for the baby's sake." If Tessa was surprised Angie knew she didn't show it. Her face had only taken on a look of distance again as she stood and leaned on the doorframe.

_Separating herself from the events of real life. Running away.  
She's not running away from the problems. She's trying to cope. _

Angie opened her mouth to say something again, if nothing else than to tell Tessa how she knew about the pregnancy and apologise for being so straight-forward, but Steve appeared in the doorway and saved her from covering the awkward silence.

He had removed his jacket, now only wearing a blue sweater over a white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to show strong, slightly tanned underarms. His hand came up to rest comfortingly on Tessa's lower back. In response, she turned towards him, a small smile grazing her lips at his immediate concern.

_Just like you and Oscar.  
**Not** like me and Oscar. We don't touch like that.  
You wish for it, though._

"Heard something about food, you hungry?" Steve asked. "It's been a few hours since that sandwich on the plane, and it wasn't big anyway. You could do with some food." If Tessa had any qualms about eating before, it had diminished as soon as her partner gave her a look which said as much that if she didn't eat, he would force-feed her. Angie smiled a little at the indignant frown Tessa put on her face.

"Okay," she agreed with a sigh, though glaring a little at the smug smile coming on Steve's face. "But nothing big or I won't be able to eat it all. Gods, by this process I'll look as big as a house before I've gotten to the seventh month."

"And you'll still look smashing," Steve retorted without batting an eye, earning a sceptical eyebrow before it all dissolved into a chuckle. Somehow, Angie felt this conversation had been played out before. There was a continuation in their voices, their motions.

_Good old chaps, huh?  
You've gotta find out where his loyalties lie. Perhaps ask her about it later, or let Oscar do the digging._

She smiled earnestly at the playful innuendo, despite the growing suspicion in the depth of her stomach. Feeling like the fifth wheel and wanting to air her uncertainties, she decided to leave them to it.

"I'll just go and see what Oscar's up to." They nodded to her, Tessa looking a little guilty. Maybe she felt Angie had been driven out of the kitchen by them and felt bad about it. Angie continued. "You go ahead and make yourself something to eat. I'll be back in a bit."

As she left them, the thought from earlier when watching the single suitcase trail by, came back to her. She turned half-way around to see Steve lead Tessa further into the kitchen, his hand still protectively on her lower back. They were chattering lowly, too low to be heard. But the air felt comfortable. Her brow furrowed.

_If he's taking money from Gisbourne, he's a good actor.  
For her sake, I hope he's not. They're so close. He's her anchor.  
Take no risks. Get to the bottom of it before it's too late. No surprises._

Angie shook the thoughts out of her head and went in the general direction of her own partner.

* * *

After the light luncheon, Steve remained to wash the dishes while Tessa, persuaded by her partner, went upstairs for a short nap. Angie watched her go from her seat in the armchair where she was talking to Oscar. He sat opposite of her, also following the woman who excused herself with a weak smile and ascended the stairs with his eyes. Sharing a look, Angie stood up moments later and followed Tessa upstairs. 

She had managed to corner Oscar earlier with her suspicions, and they had agreed on talking to Tessa about them for her opinion. And the sooner the better, even if it meant disrupting her nap.

The floorboards creaked slightly under her weight as she trod on soft rug down the small hall and stopped outside the master bedroom door. It was where Steve had brought the suitcase, Oscar said, so Angie assumed this was where Tessa was. She knocked lightly on the door.

"Tessa?" Angie asked softly through the closed door. "It's Angie—Constable Piper—can I come in?" There was a muffled reply from the other side, and she took it as an invitation and twisted the door knob.

Inside, the curtains had been drawn close, only a thin beam of light streaming through a gap and onto the fair-haired detective who had laid down on the double bed, eyes shut and one hand settled comfortingly on the now visible swell of her stomach. The knitted cardigan lay discarded on the end of the bed. It was slightly stuffy inside the room, but the window had been opened ajar to let in fresh air. Angie entered, closing the door carefully behind her.

Tessa's eyes opened half-way, her whole stature expressing her tiredness. Angie was almost sorry to breach the topic and probably upset her, but the longer she put it off the worse things would get if her suspicions were right. She stepped closer to the bed.

"Sorry to disturb you—I'd have done this later if I could—it's just that there's a few pressing matters I need to ask you about." Angie tried to give her best apologetic smile, surprising herself when she found she didn't need to fraud anything. It was a strange feeling to be honest about something…

Tessa nodded, looking a little gloomy before getting in control of her emotions and propping herself up against the headboard. "I'm guessing this has got something to do with what happened today?" Despite the obvious exhaustion, Tessa shook the pre-sleep fogginess off and peeked curiously at her.

"Sort of," said Angie, walking over to where Tessa had scooted over and given her room on the end of the bed. She sat down, meeting Tessa's eyes. "I'm afraid it's a little more complicated than that. I gather you picked up on the warning from Detective Senior Sergeant Mackenzie during the meeting?"

_How strange to refer to Mac that way._

A look of grim understanding crossed Tessa's features. She huddled together furtively, her mind straying off, probably to the mentioned scene, before looking up at Angie. "Yes, I did. Caught me a little off-guard. Didn't quite expect it, I'll admit." She held in whatever other words she wanted to utter.

Angie bobbed her head sympathetically. "It makes things more real. You're always aware that there are bad cops, but you never think twice about them before you're thrown into the mess yourself." Tessa didn't reply, just nodding distantly. Angie cleared her throat, dampening the ominous feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach when thinking of dirty cops.

"Well, the reason I came in here to talk, is that I need your view on something." She met Tessa's gaze again, suddenly nervous of her reaction to the suspicion Angie was about to bring fourth. "We both know there's not always a good telling on who's dirty and not. Sometimes they stick out like a fox in the hen yard, then other times they're like shadows at night. They're great disguisers and can be practically anyone. Your boss…someone in another division…a constable…the receptionist … It could even be your best pal," Angie ended, her voice drifting off in uneasy silence.

"You're thinking Steve's backstabbing me?" A touch of anger entered Tessa's voice, and her eyes bore into Angie's. It was not a surprise—Angie had expected something like this.

"We have to check out all possibilities," she heard herself reply automatically, in the same professional, emotionless tone one would use to someone in the interviewing room. She looked over to see Tessa stare pointedly into the air, aggravation and disbelief shooting out of her eyes. A desperate sigh wanted to push out past Angie's lips. "I need an answer, Tessa."

"He's not corrupt," Tessa insisted shortly, struggling to get her feelings in check. Her hand was clutching her stomach protectively again.

_Against you. You're threatening her stability, her life line._

"Are you sure?" Angie pressed, needing to be absolutely and fully convinced, with no doubt whatsoever in her heart that her suspicions were unwarranted for. _Take no risks. No hotshots._

"Of course I'm sure! Would I've defended him if I questioned his loyalties myself?" Tessa's grip tightened, her body starting to tremble ever so slightly in reigned-in irritation. A shot of some emotion swept over her, but Angie felt something was missing and continued to lay pressure on the topic.

"He hasn't been acting out-of-character lately, funny phone calls in secret, anything?"

Tessa shook her head, though not in reply to her question. "I can't believe this…"

Angie held back her sigh. "Look, Tessa, in order to protect you, we need to get the facts on the table. There's not room for uncertainty in cases like this. We're trying to keep you ali—"

"I know what you're trying to do!" Tessa interjected sharply. "And I'm grateful for it, I really am, but to be honest, of all the people in this city I only trust one person, and that's the very man you're accusing of corruptness!" Tessa stood up, seething with anger. "I trust Steve with my life, okay? He's saved my back I don't know how many times in the past five years, and I've looked out for him just as much. He'd never see me hurt. Never!"

Angie broke into her tirade. "And he'd never accept a bribe if it meant ensuring your life?" Tessa paced back and forth, one hand running through her hair, the other on her stomach. She reminded Angie of a caged animal, which made her feel even worse. She hated the thought of animals in captivity.

"Steve wouldn't even think twice about rejecting such a despicable offer!" The voice was strong, even a little harsh. Angie was taken aback by the fierceness. Tessa swung round on her, her fists clenching. "He's the straightest man I know. God, he wouldn't even have tried to wear different socks in case it was against regulations. And if he _had_ taken a bribe to ensure my life, why would he now help a man see me dead, not to mention the same man's in the same league as those he works 24-7 to put behind bars?"

If Angie had doubts before, she had none now. The fierce protection and dedication to her partner did perhaps cloud Tessa's objectivity, but there was such honesty in what she said, so utterly strong belief, that Angie couldn't do anything but trust her words. She had been fishy about Steve herself, not quite making the picture match with the man she saw and heard, but there had been that little seed of doubt, fed by time and then having to be brought up for discussion.

She realised she needed to apologise, but Tessa was still ranting and wouldn't leave Angie room for jumping into it. "—can't believe it," she repeated, shaking her head and pacing over the floor. "The very idea of him being corrupt is ridiculous! And why would he want me dead, when in the last five years he's even bled to keep me alive? Jumped in front of the bullet that was originally meant for me? I've nearly lost him several times over, and it has killed a part of me each time he lay in that hospital bed, struggling for his life." Tessa suddenly hiccupped, breaking off her outburst, and turned her back to Angie.

It took a moment for her to realise that the other woman was trembling with silent sobs, but once it did, guilt filled her and she wrenched her eyes away.

_You're an unfeeling bastard, Angela.  
It's my job.  
Bullshit. Stop hiding behind your job. Even you know it's a lame excuse._

She was drawn out of her thoughts by a knock on the door. The door opened as she stood, streams of light shining from the hallway, and Steve entered. He had an expressionless look upon his face, though his brow furrowed slightly when he saw the immovable but trembling frame of his partner in the shadows.

Angie shifted uncomfortably on her feet, forcing herself to meet his gaze full on. He didn't say anything, only held her gaze for a moment before moving swiftly across the floor and laid a gentle hand on Tessa's shoulder. The trembles grew stronger, Angie noticed.

The door was left open.

_He's telling you to leave.  
I should apologise.  
Later. You're not wanted at the moment._

Not a word had been uttered since Steve came in, and Angie didn't say anything as she went out the door and closed it behind her, feeling totally, outright awful. This had not turned out like she pictured it. It was quite the opposite, really. Of course, she had expected some amount of protectiveness, but not something of such calibre.

The thought of the two people now left inside the master bedroom perhaps being involved, returned to the front of her mind, and almost discarded immediately. It was not something screaming 'lovers' from them, nothing they said or did that convinced her something was going on, and she was usually perceptive about hidden truths. There was an intimacy between them, yes, but Angie couldn't put her finger on the exact significance and depth of it.

_She said they'd known each other for five years. Being partners for five years in the centre of Australia's largest city, filled with all sorts of crimes ranking on top of the rating list, kind of brings you close together. And she mentioned they'd bled for each other. Remember Oscar being shot…_

Angie wanted to throw away the thought as soon as it had appeared, but the image of the brown-haired, witty and smart, man lying immobile in the sterile hospital bed attached to a number of machines and wires, didn't want to abandon her mind. As she descended the stairs, the picture stayed with her, and she was not surprised when the familiar lump returned to her throat. It always did that.

If there was one thing she didn't want to go through again, then it would be watching Oscar get shot and balancing on a scale between life and death in the wee hours of night. Besides acting as Oscar's suddenly-there and worried girlfriend Michelle, she had as Angie inwardly prayed to whoever listened to spare his life. It had been one of the most horrible moments of her life.

_Snap out of it. It serves no good thinking about it. You just get sappy._

Shaking her head, Angie stepped down onto the rug beneath the staircase, looking around the living/dining room which so far bore no immediate traces of the place being occupied. As she went over to sit down on the couch, Oscar emerged from the kitchen, munching contently on an apple.

"Good thing with all this pregnancy stuff," he said lightly, taking a seat beside her, not noticing she scooted cautiously away. "No take-away or suspicious-looking pizza, just things good for our health."

"Remember to save something for the mother-to-be," Angie reminded him distantly, with just a touch of humour. "She's the one needing all those vitamins the most." Elbows resting on her knees, she leaned her head forward into her hands. This time she couldn't hold back the sigh pushing out of her chest. Tessa's words replayed behind closed eyelids.

"What's the matter?" Oscar asked through the darkness of her mind, his warm hand laid upon her back. She forced herself not to flinch or crumble at the gesture as she slowly opened her eyes and stared at the blank wall at the other side of the room. "Ange, is this about what happened upstairs?"

"You heard, huh?" Her voice sounded derisive. The blank whiteness of the wall, looking worn and old, filled her vision. She focused on it, still consciously aware of the shivers running down her spine from Oscar's ever-present hand.

"Hard not to," he replied easily, but his tone indicated a hint of worry. "Steve seemed to take it cool, but I could tell he wanted to go up there faster than he did."

_Steve worries about Tessa, Oscar about you. You're a nice foursome; perhaps you'd do a double date sometime?  
Shut up. Tessa's having someone else's baby. Besides, there's nothing to it.  
Why are you so touchy about it then?_

"Well," Angie started, glancing over her shoulder at Oscar, who was sitting alertly beside her, before returning to stare at the wall. "I asked her about him, what she thought and such. Told me pretty much what I'd already guessed, but I still pushed her. She got really upset." _And I feel so bad about it_, her drifting voice ended in silence.

"Hey, don't beat yourself over it." Oscar edged closer, his hand rubbing her back gently. "You know the question needed to be asked, it couldn't be helped; you only did your job." Angie couldn't keep the grim expression off her face.

'_You only did your job.' Hah!_

"Besides," her colleague continued softly, "I'm sure Tessa didn't mean anything bad by it, she's just had a rough day and needed to let out some steam. Granted, it's not fair to let it out on you, but hey, wouldn't you have done the same in her situation?" The hand snuggled around her side, gently urging her closer. Relinquishing control, Angie let herself be drawn into a one-arm hug, secretly relishing the warmth and comfort his presence offered.

"That's just it," Angie said near-whisperingly, closing her eyes as she leant on Oscar's shoulder. "She's been through a lot of stress today, with the near-kidnapping and all. Considering her pregnancy, I should've been more low-key, tried to avoid aggravating her further. But instead I go attacking the only friend she's got in this town, rattling her foundation. And by hurting her, I've probably earned Steve's distrust as well, even if he happens to be as dirty as the sewer."

"Oh come on, Ange, you know that's not true," Oscar objected lightly. "Takes more than bandying with words to make you distrust someone. Not to mention that your body unconsciously exudes trustworthiness all over the place. Tessa's bound to have caught up on that, but right now she's not thinking straight."

Angie groaned, seeing his point, and let her face fall back into her hands again. "I know, I know. It's just… My mind's going off in all kinds of directions. I don't know up and down anymore."

"Sounds like the argument shook you up pretty bad," Oscar said gently, then tried to turn up the mood again, "But hey, it'll be all right." He slipped his arm round her shoulders again, massaging the tense muscles in her neck. She kept the groan of pleasure to herself, not trusting his reaction to it. "Tessa'll come round eventually. You'll see it's all going to work out in the end." Oscar's hand travelled down her spine, prodding comfortingly at the muscles.

"In the meantime," he continued, "about Steve… I think he's clean. Got him talking about the royal commission last week up in Sydney, remember that? Well, I got the impression he's very much by the book, not the kind who'd forget about rules as soon as something turned up that could boost one's pay check. He spoke very firmly about justice through legal procedures—convinced me at least.

"I also think that he cares too much about Tessa to want her dead. He seems very protective of her, and it was probably boosted after her pregnancy was revealed. I mean, who wouldn't be? It's a dangerous line of work being a cop, and you always look after your partner, right?" Angie nodded, silently beginning to accept what they had been given of impressions and information through the conversations, and thought back on the incident upstairs.

"Tessa said something similar," she said, opening her eyes. "That Steve wouldn't even wear different socks if it'd been against regulations." Her lips twitched slightly in humour at the interesting choice of example by the older woman.

"So are we convinced?" Oscar asked. "Will we let the matter be at rest?"

Angie moved her gaze from the blanch wall opposite of her and to Oscar's face, still acutely aware of the hand kneading her back oh so good. "I think so," she said evenly. "But I still feel there's something missing, you know? Something that distorts the picture just enough to make me suspicious, but I can't put my finger on it. All I know is that there's something strange about him, about them."

Oscar sighed, removing his hand and leaning back in the seat. "Then leave it for now," he told her firmly, giving her a look which told her in no circumstances was she allowed to do otherwise. "Get your mind straight and clear, then afterwards you can get back to it with a fresh start. If you still feel the need to," he added, clearly believing this to be a subject ready to be closed and moved down on the priority list.

But Angie couldn't give up on the thoughts just yet. She returned to thinking about the two detectives who had an air of intimacy around them that seemed to have evolved past partners and onto another field. A field where the feelings had grown deeper and more meaningful, where they had the choice between going further or stay were they were: apart and miserable.

Only that they weren't miserable. They seemed happy with each other. And this made Angie think they _had_ taken the final step and gotten together in a way that wasn't typical of partners and was usually what forced them to split up and go into different divisions.

However, she quickly chided herself on the matter.

_Just because you aren't allowed to be together intimately doesn't mean you have to go around and be miserable about it._ _There are other ways of being together that can be just as meaningful. They're obviously best friends. Who're you to say they must be lovers because they're happy? Just because you and Oscar—_

_Hold it right there. Don't go down that road again, Angela. You know it yourself, it's no use. Nothing ever comes out of it. Besides, what about the suitcase?_

The lone, single suitcase, most likely containing clothes and items from both persons, which had bugged Angie's mind earlier and now, came back to her. In her experience, she hadn't met many friends or partners who'd shared baggage room. In fact, she'd met none. It was a very peculiar and strange thing to do. The relationship between said persons would have to be equally strange and peculiar, or at least way different than other people's relationships. Unless the shared suitcase was for practical measures, to relieve the persons off of multiple luggage.

Except the fact the couple-in-question _did_ seem much more comfortable with each other than a couple of best friends and partners. This ruled out the shared suitcase being for practical reasons, at least to a lesser degree. And then again there was no outwardly sign that the two actually _were_ an item.

Angie felt she was going round herself. It was frustrating not having all the facts in black and white, even though she was used to being in situations like that.

She rubbed her face, suddenly feeling very tired. It hadn't been a restful night for her. The last case she'd been on had her locked in an upheaval of remaining fright and edginess. Not that she wanted to dwell on it anymore…

In typical and automatic fashion, Angie pushed the memories to the back of her mind and turned her head to look at Oscar who still sat quietly in the seat beside her on the couch. He met her gaze levelly, not saying a word. They stared at each other in silence.

_You and Oscar are also at that point where you either go forth or back or keep at stand-still. And what a happy bunch you are_, her mind added sarcastically. Angie hated the little voice at the back of her head, but could do little to stop it from stating the obvious, the things she tried to avoid or run away from.

_Feel the electricity? _the little voice asked as she felt herself fall deeper into the pools of Oscar's eyes. They were so enchanting, so…

The stairs creaked suddenly, and Angie broke away as if burned, scooting to the other side of the couch. Ignoring the stab of disappointment, her eyes sought the origin of the sound and spotted a pair of feet on their way down the stairs. Moments later, Steve stepped down on the landing. His face was free of any emotions Angie had expected to see, but he didn't seem angry.

"How is she?" Oscar asked, breaking the momentary silence. Steve sat down in the armchair opposite of them, his voice calm and a little weary as he spoke. Angie forced her emotions under control and schooled her features, quiet.

"Asleep. She'll probably be out of it for a while. Didn't get much sleep last night." A hint of satisfaction crossed his features, like he knew something they didn't, and it added to the reawakened suspicion in Angie's mind. But it was quickly replaced by the usual, easy-going expression. He leaned forward on his elbows, clasping his hands together while surveying them through honest eyes.

"Look," Steve began seriously, "I just want to say that I can understand your view of things." He gave them each a look, letting the silence work for him before continuing. "If I'd been the one safe-keeping a star witness with a mole lurking in the background somewhere, I'd probably be wary of everyone as well, especially an outsider."

He gave a ghost of a smile, eyes hardening a little as his jaw set. The same fierce protectiveness Angie had seen in Tessa's eyes flashed from Steve's. "But I want you to know, I would never hurt Tessa, or the baby. Never. I'd rather die than lose her again…" He turned his head, his voice drifting off, giving the lingering knowledge of something that seemed to lie far back in the past, or maybe not so far.

Angie felt her heart warm on his behalf, thinking back on the time when Oscar had been shot. Glancing at Oscar told her he was in pretty much the same state. The air was filled with remembrance, of remorse and sorrow. She hunched her shoulders, wanting to get rid of the uncomfortable silence that ensued.

"So what do you say to a game of Scrabble?"

The proposition was so sudden, so seemingly absurd in the present situation that they all broke out in a liberating chuckle. She had also meant it as a sort of peace offering, even if Steve didn't immediately catch up on it. However, he seemed to have done so.

Oscar winked an eye at her. "Fine by me, what do you say, Steve? Up to the challenge, or would it be too tough a challenge for a Sydney detective to deal with two Melbourne constables?" The dark-haired man shook his head in humour and grinned, shooting back something equally bantering. Angie stood up and found the box stored in a cupboard by the dining table, feeling silly but glad the ice had been broken somewhat.

However, one thought remained gloomily in her mind. _Now there's only one more frontier to break._

* * *

The game of Scrabble ended close to an hour later, all three seemingly very creative when it came to words and both men showed an ambitious and competitive side to them that Angie couldn't quite keep up with. Not that she didn't try, quite the opposite really. Right up until Oscar managed to spell 'icosahedrons' (which is seemingly a solid figure with twenty faces), then the men had seen nothing but her bum as she raced ahead on the score list. Then they had worked against her in unison and managed to place her down on the bottom of the list, before proceeding to compete between themselves. Angie had just shaken her head at them, thinking: _Men._

Putting the pieces and card board back in the colourful box named 'Scrabble', Oscar went to put it back in the cupboard where she'd found it earlier. Steve stood up and excused himself to the bathroom. Angie was left sitting on the couch, a sense of easy comradeship filling the air. At least until the silence and lack of company made her think of Tessa again.

During the game, Angie had been attentive to the conversation flowing easily between the two men, noting how his tone of voice changed depending on what subject Steve was encouraged to talk about. And she had noticed he grew rather soft when the conversation brushed past things like family, the bush, and his partner. Oscar had tried to make a subtle pass on whether Steve was involved with anyone, but if the Sydney detective had caught up on it, he sure didn't show it. However, it was like his mouth clamped shut in old automatic response when the certain topic of relationship was brought up.

It strengthened her belief that something she didn't know about was going on between the two partners. Earlier, she'd experienced several moments where the air had been filled with an intimacy between them that didn't suit the picture perfect of two Homicide detectives. And it only perked her interest even more. Angie wanted to get to the bottom of this, but as painless as possible.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She startled out of her train of thought, glancing up at Oscar who stood behind the armchair Steve had vacated. He gave her an inquiring look.

"I can't get away from the feeling something's going on that I don't know about and it buggers me. I want answers. But my last attempt went to pieces. I'm not sure if I should try again."

"Ah, Ange, I'm sure Tessa's more relenting now that she's had an hour shuteye." She didn't quite believe him and he noticed, sighing. "Look, like I said before, forget about it. It's no good trying to force answers out in the light. They've got a natural way of revealing themselves. You've just got to wait."

Angie groaned, rubbing her face again. "I know. It's just hard. They're just…" She didn't finish the thought, only continuing it in her mind. _They're reminding me of someone, and if I find an answer to them, I'll find an answer to some of my problems._

That was what she had worked out during Scrabble while listening to the men talk about their homes, comparing the bush in each place. It explained the strong feeling that was driving her on this merry chase of near-obsessive and unrelenting answer-seeking. But she couldn't tell Oscar that. Not in her dreams did she dare to do that.

Angie stood up abruptly, stepping around the low table and towards the kitchen. "I'm thinking dinner about five or six, what do you say to that?"

"What's on?" Oscar moved after her, mockingly uncertain of her cooking skills. "Not by any chance one of your killer roasts?"

"Oscar," she chided him teasingly. "Not with two Homicide cops in the house. They'd find me out before you could say 'icosahedrons'." He grinned back at her, obvious pleased with the jest. "No," Angie continued, "I was thinking pasta or something like that. Nice and healthy for the mother-to-be, and we wouldn't take any damage by it anyway. It'd do us good getting away from the dubious fast food orders."

"Speak for yourself," Oscar quipped. "I was looking forward to some pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and dressing on the side." She chuckled, hitting him on the arm playfully while opening the fridge door and taking the juice out.

"Moron," she rolled her eyes and popped the cork open, pouring the orange juice into a glass she'd taken from the cupboard. "You want some?" Oscar nodded yes and found his own glass, Angie filling it almost to the brim. She returned the juice in the fridge and leaned back against the kitchen table, staring opposite of her at Oscar while sipping the juice.

At that moment, Steve again chose to appear in the doorway, giving Angie a small sense of déja-vu. He had his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe.

Angie spoke up, "We were thinking dinner—pasta—about five-six, that's a couple of hours 'till. What do you say?" Steve smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"Sounds as good as any time I guess. And Tessa's probably up by then. She'll be as hungry as a bear too, so you'll be sure to make a double for her." He grinned heartily, amused at the things a woman did while pregnant. Angie couldn't keep the smile off her face either and saw Oscar struggle as well.

"I'm almost glad I'm not in her position," Angie said, avoiding the glance sent her way from her undercover colleague. She did say _almost_. One day, not today but again not too far into the future, she wanted kids. Secretly there was only one man she wanted the mentioned kids with, but she wasn't about to let that out.

"Well, aren't we all?" Oscar retorted lowly. She realised he'd changed the subject from Tessa's pregnancy to the fact she was under heavy protection because some loony was after her blood. It darkened the mood and the room grew quiet, each one deep in thought.

Oscar was the one to break the uneasy silence, perhaps feeling guilty he'd brought up the one topic which seemed touchy. "Hey Steve, isn't there a game on tonight?" And the men were engaged in sports talk as they moved out into the living room, leaving Angie behind contemplating the situation they had landed in.

But she didn't want to let herself be wound up in just another never-ending train of thought, so Angie set the now empty glass in the sink and moved out of the room to wherever her overnight bag was. In it was a book she had brought along in case things turned quiet.

_If the men are going to watch footy, I might as well find something to do._

She ascended the stairs and started moving down the hallway to the master bedroom, only catching up with her mind before she twisted the door knob. Arrangements had been such that she and Oscar had agreed to share the master bedroom and leaving the single bedrooms to either of the detectives, but Steve had taken the suitcase here and this was also where Tessa was napping…

_So is one of us going to sleep on the couch or was this just a momentary solution? _

Her brow furrowed immediately as she hurried to the single bedrooms, slinging the first door open. One overnight bag on the bed. Oscar's. She went to the other room. Her bag lay by the end of the bed. Oscar had only carried the bags upstairs, he said, it was Steve who put them in the rooms. But where was Steve going to sleep?

And then it hit her.

Angie stepped away from the door with a gape. It all suddenly added up. The unusual intimacy, the shared suitcase, Steve knowing Tessa's diet by heart, Tessa's fierce protection, the odd comments, the satisfied expressions, the touching…

Tessa and Steve was a couple.

Not quite believing the new assumption in her head, Angie racked her brain for the events of the last hours since she'd met the detectives. Every memory was replayed and scrutinized. And she _did_ find the evidence to support her hypothesis, albeit she needed to look closely for them, and many of the things could be interpreted two ways.

Angie shook her head in disbelief, leaning against the doorframe into the smaller bedroom. She had only strayed past the subject earlier in her thought process, not lingered by it because it seemed so far-fetched. Partners weren't usually still partners if they became intimate with each other; many had to switch partner, or even division.

_How can you know one of them haven't filed for a transfer and is just waiting for the system to do its job?  
It doesn't feel like it. They're so… it's like they're still partners and expecting to be so in the future as well._

She thought back on the possible interpretations in her memories, those that indicated nothing was going on between Tessa and Steve. She could be wrong of course. That her own situation had influenced her choice of interpretations and therefore had the detectives pegged as lovers. However, there was that little seed of certainty that said she was correct.

_But you're not sure_, her mind finished, drifting off.

"Don't speculate," Angie muttered lowly, sighing and bumping her head backwards in the doorframe. "It's a goose chase. Stick to facts."

"Something wrong?" The voice broke through the hazy chaos of her mind, bringing Angie back to the hard core reality where the ground was firm underneath her legs. She turned her head, spotting Tessa further down the hall, just outside the door to the master bedroom. She had put on the cardigan again, effectively hiding the slight swell of her stomach from view, and had her arms crossed. She didn't look angry anymore, just well-rested. In fact, she was smiling slightly.

"Umm… No, everything's all right," Angie said slowly, not quite sure where she had the other woman, and didn't know how to react at this sudden change of heart. Tessa seemed to pick up on it, flashing an apologetic smile.

"Good to hear. I was worried me snatching your head off earlier would have you in a bit of conflicting emotions about me. I'm sorry for yelling at you, by the way."

"No, no, I'm sorry for accusing Steve like that," Angie interrupted quickly; embarrassed the woman had gotten ahead of her when she should be the one to apologize first. "He must mean so much to you, especially now when you're trapped in a city and a house with people you don't know and have to suddenly trust with your life. You were right about that. And I didn't have the right to come to you and attack the man you…" Angie didn't finish the sentence, not wanting to bring up the assumption Tessa and Steve was a couple at the moment.

Tessa looked down in the ground, seemingly a little embarrassed herself. "He does mean a lot to me." She tilted her head and met Angie's eyes. Again, the unreadable expression crossed her face. "But still, it wasn't _my_ right to act up like that. You were within your full rights to question Steve's liability in a situation like this, and if the roles were reversed I would've done the same thing. It was just me being in a high about everything. And I won't blame this entirely on the hormones, but…" Tessa grinned suddenly, making Angie do so as well. "They can be quite annoying once in a while—no, that's a lie, they usually occur very often these days—and it causes my temper to run off. I'm sorry you had to be at the other end of that."

Angie brushed it off. "So we're both sorry, let's just leave it at that, shall we? Question is: do we get to move past it?" She stared straight into Tessa's eyes, holding her gaze levelly and hoping she gave the impression of hope and promise.

"I think we do," Tessa said finally, smiling. "I mean, what's the point in staying on uneven terms when we're going to be living under the same roof for god-knows how long? Doesn't do either of us any good."

"You're right, it doesn't. So we're cool?" she added just to reassure herself.

Tessa nodded again, letting her arms fall down to her sides. "We're cool." Angie grinned, happy and relieved things had worked out.

_Just like Oscar said it would._

"Look, I know how tiring and difficult these kinds of situations can be," Angie said, referring to the whole protection thing, "And I know a man's ear can be quite deaf once in a while, so if you need a lady's ear I'm here." She smiled, comfortingly she hoped, at Tessa who returned it.

"I will," the blonde replied gratefully, eyes warm. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Now, you wanna do something? Cards, perhaps?"

"That'd be nice," Tessa said, crossing her arms again, hugging the cardigan closer, before moving towards the stairs. Angie followed her, catching up on her just as she started to descend. She couldn't help but look down and see if she could see the pregnant bulb again, albeit surreptitiously.

"The guys decided to watch some footy," she told Tessa, "And I'm sure you're always welcome to join them if you'd like."

"Men," Tessa rolled her eyes wryly, making Angie chuckle in agreement. "No matter where you find them, they'll always be interested in cars and sports."

"My sentiments exactly," Angie grinned, throwing the two men a humorously glance before leading Tessa towards the dining table. She could feel their eyes on them as they found the deck of cards and sat down. A look in Oscar's direction told her as much that he was satisfied the women had broken the ice and a little smug. Angie couldn't keep the small indignant frown from her face. She turned her face firmly away and looked at Tessa.

"So, what shall we play?"

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed with no further great crisis. Dinner had been a comfortable and easy-going affair, with all four joining in the conversation around the table, even though Tessa was a little more subdued than the others. Not that anyone badgered her about it. 

Just before the sun went down, the "watch dogs", as Oscar had so humbly named them, had announced their arrival and Angie had made sure they were in place for the night. She had also turned the sensor alarm on, so if anyone went through the gate or over the fence they would know about it right away.

_Really high tech when a star witness comes along. Nearly maximum security._

Right now, Angie was sitting in one of the puffy chairs reading a book she had brought along, idly listening to the easy chatter between Steve and Oscar. Upon realising they had familiar backgrounds, both coming from the country and moving into the city to pursue a life in the police, the two men had soon made fast friends across the six year gap that hung over them (Steve was nearly 36 according to Tessa, and Oscar had just had his big 30th birthday party—a wild affair when Peter Church stood for the entertainment). Angie had to smile as she heard them commenting on the highlighted moments of the earlier football game on the evening news.

"You'd think they'd never seen or want anything else but sports and cars. It's a wonder there's still humans left in this world." Angie spoke over the cover of her book, glancing at the woman seated in the matching arm chair opposite of her, reading a magazine. Tessa was rolling her eyes, amused.

"I find it hard to believe their biggest problem is procreation," she said. "Show them a woman and they'll know exactly what to do and have no qualms doing it: First point in the Man's Matter of Survival Guide." As to prove her point, Tessa patted the slight bulb underneath her cardigan, treating her to a sardonic look.

Angie laughed, marking the page she was on and laying down her book. "Well, for that reason, it is left for us women to get them whipped and housetrained."

"Exactly," Tessa accentuated with a grin. "What would men do without us to keep them on track?" The magazine was laid with the front down across her feet.

"Probably run off the walls in the frustration of unsatisfied primal lust and butt their heads together." The women chuckled in unison, receiving a few interested looks from the men which only made them laugh harder.

Angie was relieved in a way as the laughter died down. It felt she had finally gotten past the first walls between her and this woman she was sent to protect. Once the first ice was broken, Tessa seemed like an easy woman to talk to, with a good sense of humour and a positive attitude which belied Angie's first impression.

But there was still the air of distance around the other woman, who had drawn her feet up beneath her and now leaned over on the plush armrest, looking sad, almost. The humour still lingered in her features, but her eyes were blank as the silence ensued.

As when back in the car and in the kitchen, Angie got the feeling Tessa was reliving old monsters. Perhaps it was today's events or the events happening during the investigation about two weeks prior. Angie had heard from Mac that the Sydney detective had been attacked by Gary Gisbourne and pushed down the stairs somewhere when they went to apprehend him on murder charges. It would have been upsetting, with the baby and all. The baby could have died. But she had been lucky. And she must have felt extremely lucky and happy in the time afterwards. And then she came down here to Melbourne and had to face the invisible face of elder brother Gisbourne, again threatening the life of both her and the baby.

_She's strong_, Angie thought, a touch of admiration filling her. _She won't allow it to overwhelm her, to catch her off-guard again. _She cleared her throat, opening her mouth to speak only to be beaten at the goal line by the other woman.

"I'm so happy the woman ideal has changed since my grandmother grew up," Tessa said thoughtfully, gazing around the living room before settling back on Angie's face. "I don't think I could stand being a housewife; I'd rip my hair our in sheer boredom." Angie smiled.

"I know the feeling. If I didn't have my job, my life would be completely dull." She sighed slightly, closing her book and leaving it balancing on the armrest. "Though, once in a while, it can of course get a little too much action to my taste." Tessa nodded in agreement, arms encircling her frame as if cold. Angie wondered for a moment if she should offer finding a blanket, but Tessa spoke again.

"I think I'm going to miss the action once I'm on maternity leave, and I doubt even Steve's promise to come up with puzzles to feed my brain will keep me from climbing off the walls. The only other thing to do would be to actual housekeep. A fate worse than death."

As she ended the sentence, Tessa glanced over at the dark-haired man in the other side of the room, still engaged in an avid football and cricket discussion. Angie followed her gaze, her lips drawn in a smile as she too found the men with her eyes. They looked like old comrades already.

She turned back to the other woman. "When's the baby due?"

"Five months or so, end of January." Tessa said warmly, twirling the simple golden band around her ring finger lovingly. It was not the first time Angie had noticed it, but it was the first time Tessa showed any sign at all that she was either married or engaged. She had seen the ring at dinner, so simple golden and with a small, gleaming diamond perfecting it.

"You must be happy," said Angie with a smile, nodding slightly toward the ring.

Tessa smiled. "Yeah, we're both thrilled. Steve can hardly wait to see if it's a boy or girl. We decided to let it be a surprise." She leaned closer, her voice lowering conspiratorially. "I'm secretly hoping for a boy, though, but don't tell Steve. He thinks I want a girl." She winked smartly, noticing the look of surprise on Angie's face. "Don't get me wrong, I'd love for a girl as well, as long as I know neither of them will end up in Homicide. I think my family's had enough of detectives."

"Steve's the father?" Angie blurted out before she could help herself, the suspicions from earlier returning. _So they were a couple. I wasn't wrong in assuming so then…_ She watched alarmingly to see if Tessa had taken it the bad way, but the woman only shrugged nonplussed.

"Yes, he is. We're getting married as well." Tessa eyed her curiously. "You seem surprised. Don't worry; I won't hold it against you. You're not the first and will probably not be the last to react this way. We're expected to be just partners, not romantically involved. That's how things are, right? Straight, proficient, and by the book." It sounded like she was reciting someone or something, and she smiled without much humour. But she didn't otherwise look offended.

"Sorry, you're right, I was a bit surprised," Angie hurried to apologise, covering up her blunder. It felt like the final pieces were at last falling in place. So much unexplainable stood now with an answer. "As you say," she continued, "It's not very common and there are rules about this. At least here in Victoria there is."

"Like one of us having to transfer?" Tessa asked while looking half-way lost in thought at her partner who was gesturing gently as if pointing out something to Oscar. The distant expression crossed her face again, but not remaining like it had earlier.

"Yes, that kind of thing," Angie agreed, also looking over at the men, though concentrating her stare at her own colleague. A thought entered her mind. "Or are the rules different in the New South Wales police?" she asked, furtively trying to hide her uncontrollable interest. If Tessa and Steve were allowed to stay together…

"No, I think it's the same in both states," said Tessa, her brows knitted together. Angie hid her disappointment well. "But we haven't gotten round to talk too much about it—Steve only proposed yesterday—so I don't know what'll happen. We'd like to stay together, of course, but there are also other options, though not very favourable. I guess we'll just have to see how things progresses." Angie nodded, thoughtful.

"So what division are you in?" Tessa changed the subject, seemingly not particularly keen on continuing the previous conversation.

"Umm…" Angie was unsure of what to say, not certain whether it was wise or not to reveal her real unit. Not that she felt threatened by the other woman—quite the opposite actually—but she realised she had never been in a situation where she had been in an inner conflict of what to say. Usually she used a well-rehearsed cover story, yet somehow, now she felt differently. It could be the fact they were from two different states and divisions, and it could be that despite the fact she had not known Tessa for long she felt she could trust her. There was something about her that appealed to Angie, but exactly _what_ she was not sure.

She became acutely aware of the interested stare from the other woman, and decided to put an end to the mental rambling. "I'm in the undercover unit." Tessa's eyes widened slightly in surprise, but she nodded as if getting confirmation on a thought she had.

"You don't seem overly surprised," Angie noted, wondering if her acting skills were starting to lack. Tessa smiled sheepishly.

"Don't judge by looks," she replied, making Angie smile wryly in agreement. "I _am_ surprised, just not one hundred percent. You're both good at hiding things, but it just didn't add up. You can say I had a hunch."

If anything, Angie thought she had located the source of Tessa's career success—intuition. Intuition, and an intelligent and experienced mind to catch up on signs seemingly insignificant, but in reality saying a lot about other persons. She wasn't sure if she wanted to give herself as much credit. Her own success was mostly based on what she'd picked up throughout her work in the field.

Angie opened her mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the loud ringing of an insistent tune. She smiled apologetically at Tessa. "Sorry, gotta take that. The boss said she'd call for a check-up." Tessa nodded, gesturing that no apologies were necessary.

She stood up and rounded the chair towards the dining table where her cell phone lay. Bringing it with her to the kitchen, she pressed the reply button and put the phone to her ear.

"Piper. Hi, Danni. Where's Mac? Oh, okay. Wish her luck from me, then. Yep, everything's en route. No approximate alarms going off, no barks from the watchdogs… Right, I'll let him now. Okay, I'll call you if there's anything. Have a good time with Rick. Bye."

She turned the phone off with a small smile at her colleague's choice of date, twirling to find Oscar standing in the doorway, having followed her into the kitchen. He gave her a curious look.

"It was Danni," Angie explained, feeling a little warm as he stepped closer to her. That had happened a lot lately, she realised. "There haven't been any reports as to any of Gisbourne's men being on the move, so we might assume our location's still secure. But I suggest we take turns on night duty anyway. You can never be too sure."

"Sounds good," Oscar agreed, leaning against the kitchen bench. "I'll take the first round. I bet you've been up since early morn' and need your beauty sleep." The teasing look upon his face earned him a playful swat on the arm.

"You're lucky you paid me a compliment, or I'd be whipping your butt."

"What, such a lovely butt like mine? You wouldn't." Angie laughed at the puppy eyes Oscar put up for her benefit.

_It's when people act silly that you realise how much they mean to you._

The thought popped into her head suddenly, sobering her up in less than a blink of an eye. She propped her arms up on the sink, leaning back on her flat palms.

"Did you know Tessa and Steve are together?" Angie asked, peering into the living room where the people in question had seated themselves on the couch, Tessa using Steve's lap as a pillow while he smoothed her hair gently. In spite of the blank expression upon Tessa's face, and look of concern from her partner, they looked adoring together. A perfect match, thought Angie.

"Together is in together with big T and glittering letters?" Oscar asked to make sure he had understood the meaning behind Angie's words.

She nodded. "They're engaged, and he's the father to her baby." Oscar's brows furrowed as he too glanced quickly back into the living room, saw the couple snuggling on the couch and turned back to Angie, looking very much like a question mark.

"But they're partners, right?"

"Yeah, they are… Though, there's no clear rule saying they _can't_ be together. It's just that if both want to stay in the force, one of them has to transfer to a different unit or division."

She closed her eyes, unaware of the sudden stare directed at her. Though, when her skin started to prickle in anticipation, Angie was suddenly _very_ aware of just how close Oscar was standing to her. Her first instinct was to move away, flee from the conflicting emotions inside her, but the look he gave her held back…at least for a long, lingering moment in which his warm eyes locked with hers and she felt herself drowning. Then sensibility knocked into her, dragging her back to reality and she cleared her throat.

"I think I'll check up on our watchdogs, see if they've got anything to say."

Oscar only nodded as she left the kitchen, all the while mentally berating herself on losing control for a second.

_What are you thinking, Angie? You can't be together. Not now. Possibly not forever._

_The key word being 'possibly'_, her mind retorted just as quick. Angie shook it quickly out of her head, smiling at the couple on the sofa as she found the radio and called for the guys in the cars.

_It's when people act silly that you realise how much they mean to you._

Oh, how true that was.

* * *

Steve's heavy eyes opened, blinking at the darkness surrounding him. Right, it was still night…Something had woken him up, and he was not surprised to find worry bubbling beneath the surface of his sleep-foggy mind. It was not an unusual occurrence, but these days it was happening a lot more frequently. Ever since… He sighed inaudibly. 

By habit, he rolled over from his back-lying position and on his side, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of deep night. It was eerily quiet in the whole house it seemed, with the exception of a few soft creaks downstairs as whoever of the constables on watch walked across the floor and back again. However, inside the master bedroom only he made noises.

"You should get some sleep." His voice broke through the silence quietly, tinted with unconcealed concern. Steve gazed through half-closed lids at the silent form beside him, the back turned to him. Even in the darkness, he could see, if not at least sense, the tension in her neck and shoulders.

Raising his hand like he had done so many times before, he laid it to rest upon Tessa's slender, pale and unmoving shoulder. There was no immediate response, but he waited patiently, knowing it would come in the end.

It only took three soft intakes and outtakes of breath before Tessa spoke. "I know." She sounded so weary and utterly defeated; Steve felt that if he reached lower and deeper he could touch her innermost emotions, those she rarely let past her defences.

His grip tightened before he managed to get his feelings in check. Covering up that mistake, even though his mind told him it was all right to release some of the emotions he kept behind _his_ defences, Steve edged a little closer.

"Nervous?" he asked gently, although knowing already what the answer would be.

In the years they had known each other, and in the year since they got together, both had managed to ease the walls around their hearts down a little by little, letting the other into their guarded fortress, and thus familiarized themselves with the signs. Both had had so many secrets, so many unfinished issues that caused a lot of frustration and despair, often released unjustly upon the other rather upon themselves. And still a lot of them lay unresolved. He could think of a good many.

As predicted, Tessa nodded barely, her hand slowly climbing up her arm to wound into his fingers, seeking the comfort he offered. It always started like this. Timid, unsure—neither of them still not quite accepting what the other was offering of comfort, having been so used to distance and concealment after four years of see-but-no-touch.

Then it would gradually change until she—or him, in his low moments—was snuggled into the arms of the other, releasing whatever feelings having been carefully locked up, sometimes for a short while, sometimes for years. They had experienced a lot together and learned more about one another in the past year. Steve didn't lie when he claimed to know the signs.

Tessa continued, "Feels like I've been filled to the brim with frightened flies wanting to escape in all sorts of directions."

Her voice was so shy, just as vulnerable as the time they had sat in his car after catching the Fairview killer. Only difference was, this time he could actually do something to comfort her without being afraid of how it would affect their job. Never mind what he did now, it wouldn't have further implications on their working relationship than the twists of life had already affected it. In his opinion, it would only serve to make it stronger.

Suddenly, Tessa gave a hysterical chortle, clutching his hand almost painfully as she hunched her shoulders together, but Steve didn't mind. He never minded. For all he cared, she could have broken his wrist if it meant she would gain some sense of security and comfort from it. During their stay in Oakdale while investigating the Haven murders, he had admitted to himself that she had gotten to him. Now he could say without a trace of doubt in his heart that she had changed _that_ point of view even further.

He loved her.

Not that he was the type of man to dwell on the topic for a long amount of time.

Steve shifted in his lying position, releasing her hand to sneak his arms around Tessa's huddled frame. She didn't resist, she never did nowadays, and only let herself be drawn close against his chest. Her soft, silky hair scraped against his stubble, smelling of sweet flowers and the personal scent that sent familiar shivers down his spine as he breathed it in, snuggling as close as he got.

Secured now in his arms, he noticed she was trembling. Not rapid, strong shivers, only the consistent, prickling, almost like a tease, tremble. He kissed the top of her head, his hands settling protectively around the small bulge of her stomach.

"It'll be all right," Steve murmured lowly into her ear, feeling the shivers running up and down her back. She was breathing slightly erratically, he noticed now, but knew with calm realisation that it had nothing to do with the closeness. Fright was trying to overcome her senses, taking control. "You've just had a long, stressful day," he continued in the same, gentle voice, "and you need to relax. It'll work itself out."

The silence stretched out, tightening slightly as his thoughts returned to the events of the day. At the air plane, teasing her about the baby's sex, knowing it would irritate her. Picking up the suitcase and watching her beautiful, serene face as she was lost in thought. Senses heightening as he started to realise what was really going on while the two uniformed customs officers led them away from the main part of the airport. Seeing Tessa gasping for air in the dusty office, struggling against the strong man who held her down, feeling helpless in coming to her aid. Trying to take her hand and comfort her, only to be wrenched apart by one of the men. Tessa reaching her arms towards him while he was led away with a gun in the back, watching her being ruthlessly arm-locked.

Steve never hoped to see the look of absolute fear and despair in her striking eyes again. Never. It would kill him, even more so if he was the reason for it. Whatever it took, he wanted to keep her safe and sound, happy and alive.

_If Gisbourne tries at something again…  
Don't think like that. Stay focussed, stay calm. _

And like he always did when faced with an inner battle between head and heart, Steve chose the safe path of the head. The safe path to not loosing yourself, a path of self-preservation.

The routine had been enforced over the years as the crimes advanced in state, nearly destroying any hope of him ever admitting his feelings to Tessa. But parts of it had fallen to pieces in the same event that had sent him down on the present course in his private life. However, even if his emotional defences were gradually lowered over the past year, it was a routine hard to reverse.

And Tessa knew it. And worked diligently against it in the shadows. She would never openly admit she was trying to do so, but then again, neither was he in the same regard. Both had some personal work in front of them before everything was sun and blue skies.

"I wish I could be so easily convinced," Tessa broke through his thoughts, still on the previous subject. Steve forced his mind back on the same track as her, shaking off any lingering memory or thought.

He burrowed his nose into the scented hair wafting over his upper arm and brushing past his face across the pillow. It tickled in his nose, but Steve ignored it in favour of the drops of wetness hitting the skin of his lower arm. This time he didn't berate his feelings for coming loose when his arms tightened their grip.

Steve hated to see her vulnerable, defenceless, and had done so ever since their first case and Tessa had been faced with a ghost from the past. It was one of those things he would always hate, because it hurt her as much as it hurt him, though so much more. And at the moment, he hated it because it was unfair that she had to go through so much, especially now, with the baby and all. The doctor had warned them against stress, telling them to avoid it as much as they could. It was a risk factor that with high exposure could play part in a miscarriage.

He wished he could take her burdens away with just a snap of his fingers. To take her load and put it upon his own shoulders, like in that song "Lean on Me". But even _he_ had to face the truth he was no Santa Claus. That and the fact that an issue was better handled when you were two instead of being just one.

Though, Tessa was deep down not a team player, and it had only been proven over and over again. However, at some point in their relationship, she had allowed him to join her in her issues, and the other way round. They were slowly adjusting to coping things together, like a married couple would. Even so, there would always be some situations they had to stand on their own feet, if not else but for the feeling of being your own person.

Steve kissed her hair, murmuring soothing words and hoping she would calm down by it. The wetness became more apparent now, but he knew there would be no point in trying to turn her round and wipe them off, so he settled for just holding her securely. Otherwise Tessa would retreat into her shell once more, the one erected for her at nights when dreams ruled the hours of sleep. She had never told him why, but she hated the nights for its dreams, ever since childhood. Steve had not asked, knowing she would tell him if she felt the need to.

"Everything'll be all right, okay?" Steve let his hand stroke across her stomach in slow, calming motions. It calmed her somewhat more when he did that. He thought it would have something to do with the baby.

"We're in what has to be the most high tech safe house the Victorian police department have to offer, there's two unmarked police cars outside keeping surveillance, and we've got two smart constables who can think on their feet inside the house. You're safe. _We're_ _safe_," he added, accentuating his statement by patting the bulb underneath his palm, shielded only by the pyjama top she wore.

Tessa didn't reply at once, still shivering a little and unmoving, but her timid yet dark voice soon filtered through the darkness, "Wouldn't help me much if some sniper took a hot shot on my way into the court house."

"You'll be protected, Tess," Steve replied non-fazed and firmly. Sometimes she was very stubborn and then he needed to handle her accordingly. "You'll be protected all the while from today on and 'till you step on the plane back to Sydney. You'll get to do your testimony in six days and then see the prick go down for life." The last part had a touch of anger to it as he thought back on Gary Gisbourne's attack two weeks ago. He could've…

"I'm just so scared, Steve…" Her voice cracked, the first deeper sign of her distress, and she was soon half-choking down a sob. His own heart broke at her misery.

"Come here," Steve said gently, urging her tenderly to turn around, and drew her into his warm embrace as soon as she had done so. The slight swell of her stomach bumped into him, reminding him of the life the woman in his arms was bearing. His baby, their baby. He had to force his mind away from that topic to concentrate on what Tessa was falteringly saying as the flood was released.

She was spilling all her present fears, sobbingly trying to explain the emotions and thoughts running through her mind. Fearing for the lives of their friends and their families; how she didn't want something to happen to any of them. How she wanted to just be free of Gisbourne forever. That she hoped he would rot in hell, along with a number of other frights.

"—and then you're dragged into this, and I don't want you to be killed to silence me just because I want justice… and then we're having a baby, and… It's just too much. I can't handle it! I just can't!"

Steve ran his hand through her hair, holding her so close he could feel the rapid beating of her heart against his ribcage. He knew most of her fears at this moment had been there since Gisbourne's attack two weeks prior. Leftovers, so to speak. But now joined by the new threat from the very same man's brother.

"Yes, you can," he reassured her, not letting her drown in her own imagination's offspring. His hand ran up and down her trembling back, massaging and rubbing gently in the tense spots he could find. Steve pulled her closer. "You're the strongest person I know, Tessa. I know you can deal with this. And I'm here for you too. You're not alone."

She sniffed loudly. "But—"

Steve cut her off before she got a chance to come up with another ridiculous excuse for not believing him. "No, no arguments. I don't want you to worry about me, I'll – no _we'll_ be all right," he stressed, kissing her forehead and crushing her to him. "We're all going to be fine, Tessa. You, me, the baby, our friends, your mother, Guy—we're not going to die."

"If it meant my silence, Gisbourne would go to such lengths," said Tessa brokenly, sniffing back her tears. Steve's grip squeezed.

"He knows he's under surveillance, and besides, don't you think HQ has done their job? Everyone's probably been given a heads up and is just sitting around and waiting for you to nail the bastard. You wouldn't disappoint them, would you?" Cramped in his arms, Tessa could only barely shake her head, but it was the affirmation Steve needed. He kissed her hair, inhaling the sweet scent. "It's all right to be scared, Tess, it's one of those things that makes us human."

"I hate being scared. I hate not knowing what's going to happen next." If he interpreted the sharp edge to her tone correct, Tessa thought she was being childish.

_Always looking down on herself over the simplest things._

"I know, I know," Steve told her. "I'm scared too, of what'll happen and might happen. But there's nothing we can do about it. We just have to deal with what we've got and not think about what we haven't got. There's no point in losing our wits over this, right?"

No answer. It must have hit base. Logic seemed to be another good way to calm her down. He'd learned that through the past five years. Someone needed to keep her down on ground level, and he'd been so lucky as to get that job.

"Look, maybe we can start planning the wedding while we're here? Get our minds on something else." He brushed his lips past her ear, hugging her gently. His voice lowered softly, "And we've got a little one to look after too, remember?"

For a while it was silent, only the occasional sniff and the slowing beat of Tessa's heart against his chest breaking through the monotony. Then she replied wryly, "How can I forget?" She sniffed but sounded better, calmer. "I'm the one subjected to fat increase and morning rituals. Not to mention swollen feet."

Even with the sharp edge to her voice, Steve couldn't help but smile at her worries. "I can always massage them," he offered, with a tad bit of slyness. "Get rid of those tensions." Someone in their common past had told him that, and Tessa must've caught up on it because it drew something akin to a chuckle out of her.

Steve was pleased to hear it. It meant she was finally coming round on the optimistic path again, starting to find the fighter within her and struggle against the pessimistic trains of thought. He wasn't very fond of these low moments of hers, but he couldn't even in his wildest dreams bring himself to leave her to it alone. So once in a while, he allowed himself to be subjected to introspection, which these moments often tended to bring on.

"Maybe later," Tessa said softly, no longer trembling. "Right now I just want you to hold me and stroke my hair until I fall asleep." Steve smiled, kissing the top of her head, all too happy to oblige. Anything to see her up and smiling again.

"Deal."

* * *

_To be continued. . .  
_

* * *


End file.
